


Life Goes On

by Blue Eyes Black Dragon (OperaGoose)



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: (sort of), Atemu continues to be a dick, Character Death, Grief, M/M, Mentioned past Prideshipping, Mentioned past Puppyshipping, Parenthood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-13 19:45:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9139579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OperaGoose/pseuds/Blue%20Eyes%20Black%20Dragon
Summary: A sequel toThe Last Christmas. Tragic news brings Kaiba Katsuya back to Domino City, with his son.“Daaa-aaaaad, your phone is ringing!”“Yes, thanks—here’s your juice—stop spelling with your alphabet cereal and just eat it, Noa—where is my phone?”“It’s here, Dad. The rice is done.”“Can you read who it is for me, Noa?”Rice comes out and gets packed into their bento boxes with pre-cut vegetables and pickled fish—“It says ‘Kaiba Corp Legal Department’, Dad.”





	1. Part One

Kaiba Katsuya had too much to do. There were new renovations at the library he had serious questions for the contractor about; Noa’s interview for the Little Einstein Kindergarten at mid-day; a meeting with the loan agent at the bank to secure funds to afford the ridiculous fees to the aforementioned kindergarten — 

“Dad, I want juice!” 

“It’s coming, Noa.” 

— a consult at the optical surgeons, although maybe he should just put it off again; he had to call Jack later and check when he was back in town; the board meeting for public funding allocations has been rescheduled to four and he really needs to table his petition for a public park instead of a new— 

_Riiing!_

...who the hell could that be? 

“Daaa-aaaaad, your phone is ringing!” 

“Yes, thanks—here’s your juice— **stop** spelling with your alphabet cereal and just **eat it** , Noa—where is my phone?” 

“It’s here, Dad. The rice is done.” 

“Can you read who it is for me, Noa?” 

Rice came out and was packed into their bento boxes with pre-cut vegetables and pickled fish— 

“It says ‘ _Kaiba Corp Legal Department_ ’, Dad.” 

The speeding train that was his thoughts came to a screeching halt and derailed. One moment of floored silence, and it chugged along in a new, panicked direction. 

The timing was too coincidental. How had Seto found out? Maybe one of his American board was on the committee for the L.E.K. and had spoken to him about the application for a Kaiba. Or Mokuba had accidentally let slip. Or the application for a loan with Mokuba as the guarantor had gone through the wrong channels and had been put through as one of an application for one of KaibaCorp’s Headstart Programs—all of which had to be personally interviewed and approved by Kaiba Seto himself. Or maybe Yuugi had said something to Atemu… 

“Dad…?” 

Katsuya reached over and plucked the phone from his hands. He swiped across the screen to silence the call. “Are you finished breakfast, Noa?” 

“Yes, Dad.” 

“Alright. Come on, lots to do today.” 

Cursing the fact that the best schools had to be on Manhattan Island, he took Noa to the train with two hours to spare and just hoped it would be enough. If the were early, they’d grab a bagel or something. 

Katsuya’s phone buzzed three times—the exact number he’d assigned for texts from Mokuba. What was going on? A call from the legal department after midnight (if his maths was right about the time zones) and now from Mokuba? 

He slid his phone out. 

1 missed call 

1 voicemail 

1 text from Mokuba 

Raising his eyebrows, he tapped at the phone to check the text. 

‘ _Don’t check voicemail. Call you soon._ ’ 

Katsuya frowned slightly and sent back: ‘ _Noa’s pre-school interview today at 12pm. Plz call after._ ’ 

“Dad, dad, look!” Noa said, rising up on his knees to look out the window. “It’s my building!” 

He looked up, eyes skating over the Manhattan skyline until they settled on the tower in question. The KaibaCorp Building, whose top floors belonged to the American division of that same company. 

“Yes, Noa,” he said, leaning over to ruffle the mint-coloured hair. “There’s your building.” He tucked his phone back into his pocket. 

“Can we go to Central Park after, Dad?” Noa asked, settling back into his seat. 

“Tía Isobel is going to watch you while I go to the bank,” he said. “Maybe she’ll take you if you ask nicely.” 

Noa looked at him warily. “I don’t have to go see Grammy, do I?” 

Katsuya fought with the urge to laugh. His mother, in her own way, had been a lot of help since he’d come to America with little more than his newborn son. But she was still an awful person, and his boy’s dislike of her was understandable. “Not if you don’t want to. She’s probably at Bingo anyway.” 

Noa’s expression gave over to bright grin. “Yay! We’re going to go to the park and get ice cream and…” Katsuya let him go on about the things he wanted to do, smiling quietly. 

They only just made it to the kindergarten in time. Katsuya signed them in at the reception desk, then kneeled down to neaten Noa’s clothes. His phone beeped with a reminder about the interview, and the receptionist gave him a look. 

“You might want to turn your phone off. They’ll be unimpressed if it goes off during the meeting.” 

He nodded and turned his phone onto Do Not Disturb. They were barely sitting for two minutes, Noa absorbed in an ancient National Geographic magazine, before they were called in. 

He was immediately aware of being judged by the group of stuffy old men sitting behind the long table. He sat Noa in the centre chair and then moved to sit on his left. The empty chair on the other side was glaringly obvious. 

“Will your wife be joining us?” One of the men asked, in that faux-polite tone of voice. 

“I’m a single parent,” Katsuya replied. 

The three men exchanged looks. Strike one, he thought bitterly. 

“Are you involved in any charities or public works?” 

“I run the Woodward Public Library in Queens,” he answered. “And I’m regularly involved in the public municipal council meetings.” 

“On the board?” One of the men asked. 

“As a concerned member of the public,” he answered. 

The men looked at each other again. Strike two. 

“Mister Kaiba…” 

“Don’t you have any questions for Noa?” Katsuya asked. “He is your future student, after all.” 

They looked rather offended by that. “We usually lead these interviews ourselves, Mister Kaiba.” 

“Tou-san,” Noa said, switching to Japanese. It was a bit of a nervous habit he employed in public—the probable reason being that nobody else could understand them. “I don’t like these men.” 

“It’s alright,” Katsuya soothed him, in the same tongue. “They’re not going to be your teachers. They’re just the stuffy old men that pay for everything.” 

“Mister Kaiba,” the first man said impatiently, “does he speak English?” 

Katsuya fought the urge to growl. “Noa speaks three languages fluently for his age, and can read a fourth.” 

“It’s Mandarin,” Noa offered. “The tonal shifts are hard.” 

“Bilingualism stunts cognitive capacity,” one of the men said. 

“Actual, most recent psychological studies have found that there are cognitive advantages to bilingualism,” Noa replied. “I could recommend some good journal articles.” 

They seemed taken aback—Katsuya gave a proud grin. He was used to a barrage of barely-understandable technobabble coming out of his son at any given point, and had gotten to the stage where he could mercilessly enjoy other people’s surprise. The rest of the interview was conducted between Noa and the panel. 

Katsuya wasn’t stupid. He knew what they thought of him and his suitability. With his unenviable address and his clearly ‘low class’ upbringing - not even getting _near_ the mixed-race thing - he was well-aware that the Kaiba name was the only reason he’d gotten the interview. 

But Noa represented himself. His boy loved learning and had been devouring knowledge with a fervour that Katsuya knew only an advanced learning program could fulfil. Little Einstein Kindergarten was the best, even if it was full of socialites and elitist snobs. 

The meeting came to an abrupt, angry silence when a shrill ringing sprung up from his pocket. He frowned slightly. 

“Mister Kaiba!” one of the men snapped angrily. 

“It’s on Do Not Disturb. It only goes off if there’s been repeated attempts to call. It may be an emergency.” He slid the phone and checked the screen. Mokuba had already called three times. He quickly hung up and fired off a quick text. ‘ _Interview. Soon_.’ He put the phone away and turned his attention back. “It was Noa’s uncle.” 

Strike three. 

The panel rushed through the end of the interview. Katsuya had accepted that they were going to be declared unsuitable, despite Noa’s intelligence. He left the office and headed back to the subway station, holding Noa’s hand with one and fishing for his phone with the other. 

Returning Mokuba’s call, it rang twice and then picked up immediately. “Mokuba,” he greeted. “What’s up? It’s gotta be like three in the morning there.” 

“Katsuya…” 

He came to a stop as soon as he heard Mokuba’s voice. Noa stopped when he felt the tug on his arm, looking up at his dad with concern. “What happened, mokuba?” 

“We think Seto’s dead.” 

~*~ 

Katsuya carried Noa off the plane. His trip had been super long and super stressful—and his boy had pretty much slept the whole way. He would have to thank Mokuba later for sending him one of the KaibaCorp jets. He didn’t know how he would’ve handled flying commercial on top of everything else. 

Flying had been hard enough as it was after the news, but there hadn’t been time for anything else. So here they were, back in Domino City. 

Isono was there waiting for them along with a much younger security guard. Katsuya smiled weakly as soon as he saw him. “Aren’t you retired?” 

Isono gave him a tired look. “My family needs me.” 

Do not cry, Katsuya told himself. He turned instead to the other guard. “Can you grab our bags please?” 

The trip back to the city was hauntingly familiar. There were new buildings, enough had changed to remind him he’d spent a long time away from home. 

KaibaCorp’s hotel was still a shining tower of glass and blue steel, kept in pristine condition. It wouldn’t do for something related to KaibaCorp to look outdated. 

Isono already had his key and swiped them into the residential elevator from the underground parking. All the way up to the top. 

He didn’t know if it would have been worse to return to their old penthouse, but as he watched the numbers tick up, he realised he would be going to the apartment Seto had shared with Atemu. Possibly the place they’d had their rendezvous back before the divorce. 

Noa was heavy in his arms, head on his shoulder, snoring in his ear. He lightly rested his chin on the small head, his stomach twisted and anxious. A soft ding sounded just before the elevator doors opened. He took a deep breath, steeling himself to step out and face the music. 

“They’re both there,” Isono told him. It was probably meant to be reassuring, but it only made his stomach knot up. Both Mokuba and Atemu, in the same place—both of them grieving, both of them with grief more deserving than his own. Very gently, Isono put his hand in the middle of his back and started leading him forward out of the elevator. 

As soon as the door opened, Mokuba stood up. He looked very tired, and sad—like he’d been crying all day. He probably had. Katsuya didn’t blame him. 

“He’s still asleep…” 

“Since we took off,” he replied. “He’d sleep all day if I let him.” 

Mokuba gave a weak smile. “Seto would too.” His expression spasmed, painful. “Would have.” 

Katsuya moved forward, clutching him tight his his free arm. Mokuba clung tightly to him until he’d regained his breathing. Then he pulled away and gave him a weak smile. “How was your flight?” 

“As good as you can expect.” 

Mokuba cringed and nodded, sinking back into the couch cushions. 

Katsuya looked around. “Where’s…?” 

“Main bedroom,” Mokuba replied. “Hasn’t come out of there since we found out.” 

He cringed. “Should I…?” 

Mokuba gave him a grateful look. “Would you? I have no idea what to say…” 

“Here, take Noa.” He carefully handed over the sleeping boy. “I’ll go in.” 

Mokuba nodded. He held Noa close, soaking up the comfort he could get from hugging him. Noa snored on, oblivious. 

Katsuya headed down the hallway. It was neat and minimalist—the occasional decoration was dragon-themed. Normally he would smile at that, shake his head and mutter ‘ _typical_ ’. He walked in silence. Most of the doors were open, so he went to the first closed one and opened it up, hoping it wasn’t a closet. 

The bedroom was neatly kept, but the wardrobe was open, with some clothes tossed on the ground. There was a small person-shaped lump curled up in the middle of the large bed. He moved over and perched on the edge of the mattress. The sheets rustled and the shape of the lump changed. 

He reached out and touched the shouldery-looking part. “Hey…” 

The lump moved, and a very unexpected head popped out. “Katsuchan?” 

It took a moment for the face to click. “Isa-chan,” he said, trying to cover up his surprise. Where was Atemu? 

She began to cry, throwing herself into his arms. He hushed her gently, rubbing her back and tell her that he was here for her now. Eventually, she fell asleep. 

He headed out, sighing when he heard Noa’s voice chattering away in Spanish. He came out to find his son on the phone—most likely to Isobel. Mokuba was asleep on the couch, someone had thrown a blanket over him. He spotted Isono sitting on an armchair and staring blankly at a newspaper from last week. 

He ruffled his boy’s hair and headed over to his kitchen. The coffee machine was expensive, technical and way too complicated. He dumped the pot on the stove and cooked it up manually. 

Noa came over, magnetized to the smell of coffee. He clung to Katsuya’s leg until he lifted the boy up onto the counter next to him. “Tía says hola,” he told Katsuya. “I told her that I got to go on a big, fancy jetplane!” 

“You slept the whole time!” 

“The seats were too comfortable!” Noa protested, pouting. 

“And now you’re going to be awake all night,” Katsuya said, stirring his coffee. 

“You could give me some coffee to drink,” he said, grinning. 

“When you turn twelve,” Katsuya answered without a pause. 

“Daaaaaad!” 

He ruffled Noa’s hair. “Nope.” 

When they were sat down, some hot cocoa for Noa and a black coffee for Katsuya, Noa asked: “Dad, where are we? This doesn’t look like Uncle Mokuba’s place.” 

“It’s not,” he answered carefully. “This is your other father’s apartment.” 

“The one who died in the helicopter crash?” Noa asked—with all the innocence of a child who was completely oblivious to tact. 

Katsuya swallowed the lump in his throat. “Yeah, Noa.” 

“Okay.” 

“There’s a little girl here,” he continued, “her name is Isa. She...your other father adopted her.” 

Noa’s eyes went wide in excitement. “So, she’s my sister?” 

Katsuya hadn’t even thought of that. “I suppose so, if you both want it.” 

He grinned happily. “Tía says we’re going to live in Japan from now on. Are we going to live with Isa now?” 

Katsuya grit his teeth. “Do you want to live here, Noa? You won’t be near Tía Isobel anymore.” 

The little boy frowned. “Do I have to decide right now, Dad?” He asked carefully. 

“No,” he replied. “We’re going to be here for Seto’s funeral, then help your uncle Mokuba and Isa get settled. We’ll wait to hear from Little Einsten and then go from there, okay?” 

Noa nodded. “Okay. Can I go read my physics book now?” 

~*~ 

“You’ve been a rock, Jou,” Yuugi said, looking over a cup of tea at him. “Mokuba has been a mess since he got the news. He was totally overwhelmed—didn’t know where to start.” 

“He just needed someone,” Katsuya replied. “He’s always had his big brother. I’m glad I could be there for him.” 

Yuugi gave him a long look. “How’s Isa?” 

“She’s...coping,” he replied. “Her dad died. It’s not easy.” 

“She always asks about you,” Yuugi said. “It was hard when I didn’t have anything to tell her.” 

“I always told you that you could come visit me in New York,” he replied, unmoved. “And so did Anzu. You were welcome with either of us.” 

“You know I can’t leave the shop alone.” 

Katsuya rolled his eyes, but didn’t press the matter. “How’s Atemu holding up?” 

Yuugi shifted uncomfortably. “Ancient Egyptians thought differently about death than we do. He talks about him like he’s still around.” 

He turned his cup around in his hands, inspecting all the flaws in the ceramic. “Well. However he can cope.” 

“Jou-kun…” 

“So you weren’t called in to this...legal thing at KaibaCorp tomorrow?” Katsuya asked, interrupting whatever question his friend wanted to ask. 

“No, I’m not,” Yuugi answered, frowning. “It’s probably to do with the will.” 

“I don’t know why he asked me to come then,” Katsuya replied. “He wouldn’t have left me anything.” 

Yuugi gave him a long, quiet look. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that. 

~*~ 

“Thanks for coming,” the lawyer said, leading them over to a set of comfortable-looking lounge chairs. 

Katsuya glanced at Mokuba and Isono. “Wait, don’t we need to wait for…?” 

“The three of you are the only significant recipients from the estate.” 

But… what about Atemu…? He stayed silent, sitting in his seat. He’d just have to wait. Through all the legal mumbo jumbo, he toyed with the edge of his sleeve. Once the lawyer finished talking, he looked at Mokuba for help. “So… what does that actually mean?” 

The new CEO of KaibaCorp gave him a sympathetic look—but it was the lawyer who answered the question. “Kaiba-shachou wanted you to have full custody of any children he had.” 

“He wanted you to look after Isa,” Mokuba replied. His voice still had the same roughness Katsuya had gotten used to hearing in the past few days. 

...how old was this will? He just nodded, numbly accepting it. “Is that it?” 

“Isono is to be given one of the houses, and the mansion is to go to Mokuba. The rest of the residential properties are to be divided per agreement between Mokuba and yourself.” 

It had to be old. Before Atemu had come back, and the divorce had ever factored into Seto’s plans. He remembered the talk they’d had—the Serious Discussion over escargot in their honeymoon bed. Deciding in, the horrible circumstance of one of their deaths, what would be done in the events of their life left behind. 

_“What about me?” Katsuya has asked, pressing into him. “I don’t have anything much to leave you…”_

_“Don’t talk of it,” Seto replied, wrapping arms around him in a tight grip. “I can’t imagine living my life without you in it.”_

Katsuya clenched his fists tightly, digging his nails into his palm until he felt his emotions under control. “Mokuba and I can talk about all of that after the weekend,” he said. 

The lawyer nodded. 

Katsuya didn’t wait around for pleasantries. He headed out of the office and went to relieve Honda of his babysitting duties. 

~*~ 

The alarm clock on the bedside table went off at six am. Noa slept right through it. Isa stirred, but settled back to sleep as soon as he turned it off. He tucked the blanket back over both of them, then headed back out to the kitchen. He put his adopted coffee pot on the stove. 

It was after he burned the second pot that he decided he’d be better off ordering breakfast from the hotel’s room service. So he ordered for them all, then collected the freshly pressed kimono from the front coat closet. Noa and Isa’s he hung behind the door in the master suite, looking in to check they were still fast asleep. Mokuba’s he hung behind him on the stand already set up—the man looked all but totally asleep, sitting at his desk and staring at the mirror. 

The breakfast trolley arrived. He tipped the concierge, ignoring the pitying look he received. A mug of coffee held under his nose was enough to wake Noa up—although he sulked as usual when he wasn’t allowed to drink it. Isa woke up at the noise they were making, sliding out of the bed and going off to the dining room to eat. 

Katsuya had to take a plate and a mug of coffee in to Mokuba, who hadn’t moved. He pressed the mug into his hands and stood behind him, dragging a comb through his long hair. He helped his ex-brother-in-law into the kimono and left him to hopefully eat. 

Isa and Noa were already arguing like all siblings did. It was hard to get them to stand still long enough to do the intricate fitting of the small black kimono with the Kaiba family crest sewn on the breast—especially Noa, who never liked everything but neatly ironed shorts and shirts. 

“Katsuchan,” Isa asked, “where’s your kimono?” 

He shook his head. “I don’t have a black one. I’m going to wear a nice suit.” That of course set Noa off complaining that he didn’t want to wear the kimono and couldn’t he wear his suit and shorts instead? 

Mokuba at last emerged from his room, and took over watching the kids like it was his only mission in life. It gave Katsuya enough time to dress and comb himself into neat order. 

Eventually, they did have to leave the hotel room. They wouldn’t be returning to it for a while. Isa had packed a bag with all the things she couldn’t live without, and that had been sent—along with their suitcases—to the old penthouse apartment. The one Katsuya had called home for for five years. 

There were too many people. Anyone who had done business with or worked for or known Kaiba Seto seemed to be standing in the formal gardens of the Kaiba Mansion. 

The prayers and rites were all symbolic — the coffin of polished white would they burned up lay empty, since they hadn’t recovered a body. He didn’t listen to a word they said, holding Noa’s cold hand in his own, staring at Mokuba and Isa holding each other. They cried and clung and supported each other. 

Mokuba really should have been given custody, but he had already had several strongly worded email chains with him about the matter. So Katsuya would take her. They would stay in Domino until she finished the school year—that should give him and Mokuba enough time to divide the estate in a way they could agree on. Then Katsuya would take her to New York for a little while. Long enough to liquidate the American assets not directly related to KaibaCorp, possibly longer if Isa liked it better there… 

He blinked out of his thoughts when he felt a light tug on his hand. “Dad. We’re going to the wake now.” 

Katsuya led him up to the large, marble structure that was the mansion itself. He pointed to a fountain of a white marble dragon spitting water toward the sky. “That’s where you other father proposed to me,” he explained. 

Noa looked at the fountain with a critical look. “Did you say yes?” He demanded. 

Katsuya laughed. “Because I love him very much and wanted us to be married.” 

The child huffed. “I would’ve waited for somewhere more impressive.” 

He gave his boy a sad smile and tugged him into his side. “Noa, I’m going to tell you something. When it comes to love—when you really care about someone, don’t wait for everything to be more impressive, or ‘ _perfect_ ’. Things can change, and you don’t want to regret what you could have had while waiting for something better to come along.” 

Noa looked up at him, confused—but with that look that meant he was committing it to memory. 

By then they’d finished crossing the grounds and reached the back doors of the mansion. It was full of black-clad people, walking around and talking in low, hushed voices. 

Katsuya sighed. “Let’s go find the food, shall we?” He asked, nudging Noa’s shoulder. 

Blue eyes, their colour too familiar, gave him a long look. “Okay, Dad.” 

He ducked into one of the side rooms, searching until they found the buffet table. He put together a plate of the small, bite-sized foods from the table for Noa. He settled his boy on a small seat with the plate to eat. 

“Aren’t you going to eat something too, Dad?” Noa asked, picking up a pair of chopsticks expertly in his left hand. 

Kastuya blinked, then smiled at him, ruffling the neatly combed hair. “Of course I am. Just getting you settled in first.” 

Noa sighed and reached up to bat his hand away. He walked back to the buffet table and picked up his own plate. There were too many options, and he held his plate and looked at the table, unsure where to begin. 

“Were you family?” 

He started, turning to look at the speaker. She was a middle-aged woman, with the look about her as if she knew everything. One of KaibaCorp’s scarily efficient secretaries, if he had to guess. “I’m sorry…?” 

“I asked if you were family. You don’t look like one of the business types.” 

“Oh.” She had to repeat the question, and he shifted awkwardly. “No. Not really. I’m just the ex-husband.” 

She gave him a pitying look. Before she could make any more conversation, he piled piled up his plate with whatever food was at hand. Then he hurried back to Noa, sitting next to him on the seat. His boy had already finished—he, at least, didn’t have Seto’s habit of surviving almost entirely on coffee. Although maybe that would change once he was allowed to start drinking it. For now, he would eat everything except broccoli and still ask for dessert after. 

“Hey Jou.” He looked up, somehow completely unsurprised to see Otogi standing in front of him. “How are you doing?” 

Katsuya grinned back at him. “Otogi!” he greeted. “I almost didn’t recognise you without the eyeliner and the dice!” They made small talk about Otogi’s business, his expansion to the European Market, the why haven’t you proposed to Honda yet. 

After the conversation lulled, Otogi gave him a long look. He was getting sick of everyone giving him those. “Are you okay, Jou?” 

Katsuya turned, smiling. “Oh! Otogi, have you met my son Noa?” 

“We met the other day when Hiroto was minding him.” 

“Right, of course. Noa, say hello to Otogi.” 

“Hola Otogi,” Noa mumbled, mostly hiding behind his dad’s arm. 

“Hola, niño. Que tal?” 

Noa’s eyes went wide. 

Katsuya let him chatter away in Spanish with the businessman, catching a word here and there but not following the flow of the conversation. After some time, Otogi turned to him. “He’s a smart kid, huh?” 

“Yeah,” he answered, smiling. “Too much for me to keep up with sometimes. Most of the time.” 

“So he’s Kaiba’s kid then?” 

Katsuya cringed and turned his face away. “I raised him.” 

“You know what I meant.” 

“Yes, I know what you mean.” 

Otogi sighed, knowing he couldn’t recover from that. “Does Noa know…?” 

“I’ve always been honest with Noa about it,” Katsuya replied. 

“Did **he** know?” 

He hung his head. “I never told him.” 

Otogi looked at him, his expression pitying. “I don’t blame you,” he said quietly. Tactfully, he changed the subject: “How’s Jack?” 

Before they could say anything else, a group of businessmen interrupted and swept Otogi away. Katsuya didn’t see any of their other friends—but they were probably comforting Mokuba and Atemu, like they should be. 

Eventually, Isa came over, curling up on the seat and quickly falling asleep on Katsuya’s shoulder. Taking that as an acceptable cue to leave, he asked Isono to let Mokuba know the were leaving and headed out. 

Returning to the old penthouse was jarring. The maintenance crew had already been in to uncover and clean everything, but it still felt abandoned. He went to Mokuba’s old room, laying her out on the freshly made bed. The old nursery, he decided, would be Noa’s room. He’d have to have the infantile furniture removed, but that was a problem for another day. 

“What do you feel like for dinner?” Katsuya asked. 

“Dad…” 

“Japanese would be easiest, obviously. Or we could just take a look at the apartment block’s delivery options.” 

“Dad. Stop. Please.” 

Katsuya paused, looking down at him. 

“It’s okay, Dad. You can cry.” 

He felt a feeling throb through him—one he couldn’t put a name to. “What are you talking about, Noa? I don’t need to cry.” 

“Tou-san,” Noa said, coming over and wrapping arms around him in a tight hug. “I know you’re sad. You don’t have to hide it from me. It’s okay to cry now.” 

He felt his resolve crumble. The painful lump in his throat came first. Then the watering eyes. Within minutes he was knelt on the floor, clutching his boy close and sobbing into his shoulder. 

Noa’s hand rubbed his back in a soothing gesture. “It’s alright, Tou-san,” he said. “I’m here. 

~*~ 

“Of course you’re welcome to stay, Mokuba,” Katsuya answered. His iPhone was balanced on the pile of unfolded boxes he was carrying in his hands. “I’ve got the maintenance crew for the building coming in on Friday to remodel Noa’s bedroom in the old nursery. I can get them to put a bedroom in the old home office for Isa at the same time. It’s really no trouble.” 

“Thanks, Katsuya,” Mokuba said quietly. “I’ve been staying in a suite at the hotel, but I think the silence is getting to me.” 

“You’re always welcome to stay with me. You know that—where is the damn light-switch? Oh, here.” 

“You alright?” Mokuba asked, concerned. 

Katsuya set the boxes down on the floor, picking up the phone and holding it close to his face. “Yeah.” 

“Where are you anyway?” Mokuba asked, his previously non-stop typing pausing as he waited for an answer. 

“Uhh…” He awkwardly rubbed the hair at the back of his head. “I’m at the hotel.” 

“Wh—” Mokuba paused in the question, silent for a moment. “What are you there for?” 

“I’m packing up his stuff,” he admitted. 

“Oh. I… I didn’t even think of that. I can call a removalist if you don’t want—” 

“No, it’s okay.” He sighed. “I want to. Besides, there might be stuff here we want to keep, or sell. A removalist would just toss everything.” 

Mokuba was silent for a long few moments. “If you find a little old brown teddy bear, I’d like to keep it.” 

Katsuya gave a bittersweet smile, though his brother-in-law couldn’t see it. “Of course. Text me with anything else you come up with.” 

Which did remind him—he sent off a text to Yuugi asking him to check if Atemu wanted to keep anything. From the bits and pieces he’d heard since coming back to Domino, Atemu was living with Yuugi, helping out with the game shop. Katsuya didn’t blame him for not wanting to come back to the apartment—but he was starting to get frustrated that he was refusing to be involved in **any** of the processes. 

Without waiting for a response, he went to the bookshelf and started picking them off one-by-one. He chose a few he thought might interest Noa, but the rest he arranged by the Dewey Decimal System in boxes labelled ‘Domino Library Donations’. There was a cashbox hidden inside a hollowed-out copy of Les Miserables that went into the ‘ _KEEP_ ’ box. A few of Isa’s hand-made figurines were wrapped carefully in bubblewrap and joined it there. 

For most of the apartment he managed to stay unsentimental. 

The next day, after dropping Noa off at Honda’s again, he went back to the hotel’s penthouse. He procrastinated all day, but eventually a text from Yuugi spurred him into action. Atemu, it seemed, wanted a particular set of cufflinks and a specific watch from Seto’s collection. Katsuya, finally, at long last, entered the master bedroom to pack everything away. 

The shoe cupboard was easy: nobody was his size, so he dumped every pair into the ‘ _donate_ ’ box. As was the first bedside table. A badly translated knock-off copy of the ‘blue eyed white dragun’ card was bookmarking a worn-out copy of Nietzsche—in German ‘ _of course_ ’—was sat beside an unplugged alarm clock. The drawer and the shelf below it was empty. 

The second bedside table was more stressful. As soon as he opened the drawer he felt a lump forming in his throat. The smell that wafted out was painfully familiar. The apartment was too well-maintained to have any lingering smells—but the drawer released the haunting scent of Seto’s cologne. He sat on the edge of the bed until the vague memories stirred by the scent faded away. 

Head, and eyes, clear, he reached in and took a handful of stuff out. Old receipts, scraps of paper with designs or doodled sketches, a handful of expensive pens missing their lids, an old daily planner from the previous year. 

The rest was more difficult. An old photo from Battle City, all of them serous. An old ring-box he knew, if he opened it, would contain Seto’s (and his father’s before him) wedding band. A yellowed envelope penned in his own writing—when he glanced at the words, he knew it was the letter he wrote agreeing to the divorce. A scuffed up Toon blue eyes keychain Katsuya had won for him at KaibaLand on one of their first few dates. 

There was also a scrapbook. 

He didn’t know what he expected it to be, but when he opened it up he felt his heart thump painfully in his chest. 

Glued carefully to the first page was a clipped article from a trashy news magazine. An article that trashed Kaiba for being seen with yet another young, questionable lover. Kaiba had kept up to the part where they named him Jounouchi Katsuya, then trimmed the rest. 

Beneath it was a receipt. Katsuya hadn’t even remembered the name of the restaurant Seto had taken him to—but Seto had penned down their meals and what they’d spoken about. 

He didn’t know how to cope. He thumbed through the pages, seeing their dates recorded in pictures and receipts and notes until the day they got married. 

Why did Seto keep this? 

He set it awkwardly inside the ‘ _KEEP_ ’ box to deal with another time. 

The vanity desk was next. He opened the drawer, taking out the box Seto had always kept his cufflinks in. The old number lock still opened to the same code, and he carefully lifted the hinged lid. Nestled in the dark blue velvet, pairs of cufflinks sat in neat little lines, arranged in a specific order on Seto knew the logic of. 

He scanned the lines, frowning slightly. Taking out his phone, he dialled Yuugi and waited. It wasn’t long until the shopkeep answered. 

“I can’t find the ones he meant,” he said after the niceties were over. “The only diamond set I can find are ones I got him for his birthday.” 

Yuugi had a murmured conversation with Atemu. “They’re square,” he relayed afterward. “Frosted blue diamonds in white gold.” 

Katsuya clenched his teeth, calming himself forcefully. “Do me a favour, Yuugi? Tell him ‘ _fuck you_ ’ from me.” He hung up abruptly and slammed the phone down on the desktop — wincing as it cracked. 

He took himself back home. 

Yuugi explained later that Atemu hadn’t placed any real sentiment on the items he’d requested. He’d only liked them the best. He had, Yuugi insisted, all he needed to remember Seto by. Katsuya accepted no apology — and he couldn’t return to the penthouse for weeks. 

~*~ 

“Look, Isa!” Noa said eagerly, pointing out the window of the town-car. “It’s my building!” 

They were stuck in New York City traffic. The lawyer KaibaCorp USA had on retainer was insisting that he look at one of the properties before he put it up for sale. He didn’t know what the ploy was—maybe it had something to do with racking up billable hours. 

“That’s the KaibaCorp building,” Isa replied impatiently. “It belongs to Kaiba Corp!” 

“It’s got **my** name on it!” Noa insisted. 

“That’s my name too!” she argued. 

“You can have the one in Domino,” Noa said, in the same voice he used to negotiate more play time before dinner. “I’ll take this one.” 

“Fine,” she said. “The office there is better there anyway.” 

Glad they had resolved the argument without his needing to diffuse the situation, Katsuya relaxed. The kids got along well, for the most part. Noa had always craved more young company—and while he still had jealous moments about his dad’s attention being divided between another child, he generally accepted that a sibling meant more attention overall. 

Isa was less patient with it, but she’d been at the orphanage and knew one sibling was worth more than a hundred foster ones. 

This week she was a bit cranky being out of her routine and the familiar comforts of her life in Domino City. Isa’s distaste of the loud rough city of New York, and his small dingy apartment in Brooklyn, was obvious. She’d probably be happier in one of the Upper East suburbs, but even if though **could** afford to live there now, he wouldn’t want to anyway. 

The traffic cleared before the kids can get into another argument. They pulled up to the address, and Katsuya realised why he was having trouble. The building was a magnificent structure of blue steel and glass. It reminded him, for one gut-twisting moment, of Kaiba Corp’s hotel back in Domino City. 

The lawyer waited by the doors, as Katsuya climbed out, helping Noa and Isa out as well. His mouth settled into a tight frown as he spotted the children, but he offered a polite handshake to Katsuya. “Mr Kaiba,” he greeted. 

They exchanged some pleasantries, the Lawyer began to list the features of the tower. “So which of these apartments belong to Kaiba Corp and which belong to the family?” Katsuya asked after a pause. 

“All of them were part of the late Mr Kaiba’s personal investment portfolio—the entire building, the land belong it, and the skyspace around it.” 

“He always did spend money on the strangest things,” he said softly. Imagine that, buying the sky. The things that were possible in America if you had enough money. He sighed. “Sell the apartment at the National Housing Affordability Scheme standards, I’ll talk to Mokuba about handing over maintenance to Kaiba Corp.” The lawyer’s expression had become pinched at some point during his reply. “Is something wrong with that?” He asked. 

“The N-HAS prince might attract the wrong sort of...clientele to this neighbourhood,” he replied. “You should list them at market value.” 

Katsuya fixed an easy, polite smile on his face. “Alright. I see your point. Forget what I said about selling them.” 

The lawyer’s eyes looked greedy. “Will you be renting them out, sir?” 

He kept his smile on. “Please make sure the paperwork for transferring the properties into my name is completed as expediently as possible.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Did Mr Kaiba had residency in any of the apartments here?” Jou asked. 

“The Penthouse.” 

“I’ll be back in a few days to pack the personals up.” 

~*~ 

“ _In a bold move shocking the borough's residents, Mr Joey Kaiba had announced that the new Kaiba Towers, due to open for viewing and sale next month, will no longer be available for private residency. Instead, the divorced husband of the late Seto Kaiba has announced that he will be working with the mayoralty of New York and the Coalition for the Homeless to turn the Towers into open housing for the homeless and disadvantaged families_ .” 

As Katsuya stepped inside the building, the doorman turned the volume on his radio back down. “Mr Kaiba!” 

“Afternoon, Yusef,” he greeted. “How’s your six little ones?” 

He spent a good half an hour listening to Yusef talk about his kids and grandkids, before the doorman moved on: “Mr Kaiba, are you really going to turn this place into a homeless shelter?” 

“Yes,” he replied. “You aren’t expected to keep working the door, if you don’t want to. Mokuba and I would be happy to find you another position elsewhere.” 

“Actually… I would like to stay on. Work for the shelter, if they let me.” 

Katsuya tilted his head at that. “Well… I’ll help keep you on as far as I can. But why…?” 

“When I came here, on my own, I had nothing. Nobody wants to help you out, especially not when you’re…like me. That lawyer you came with, he would only sell to men like him—and you could have done that. But you’re doing good, Mr Kaiba. And… if you don’t mind me saying so, I think Mr Seto would have been proud of you.” 

Katsuya bowed his head at that. “Thank you, Yusef,” he said softly. 

“Now. Don’t think I don’t know why you’re spending extra time with me, Mr Kaiba. The boxes you ordered are already upstairs.” 

“Can’t get anything past you, can I Yusef?” He gave the doorman a tired smile. “I’m sure I’ll be down soon.” 

He couldn’t put it off any longer. The city council and the chairwoman from the Commission would be around on Monday, and he wanted to be ready to hold the whole building over then. Which meant that Seto’s penthouse needed to be cleared out. He’d done the suite at the hotel he’d lived in the majority of the time in Domino, he could do the penthouse Seto had stayed in only the last few times he’d had business in New York. 

It had been so tempting, each time his ex-husband had visited his city, to just go. Go and see him and finally tell him about Noa. But he’d never done it. Asked Noa a few times, if he wanted to go see him for the first time. But his boy had never seemed interested and the East River between them meant that they’d never accidentally run into each other. Seto had never tracked him down, either, which clearly spoke his interest in a reunion. 

The soft ‘ _ping_ ’ of the elevator snapped him out of his thoughts with a jolt. Shaking his head at himself, he forced himself out and over to the elegant set of double doors. A three-headed dragon in white marble was fixed to the door. “Just so everyone knows whose home this is…” 

Opening the front door was the easiest step. Stepping in, punching the code into the security system was easy—Yusef had told it to him days ago, and it was the same as all the others. 

For the most part, the apartment was just a bland, upscale home picked from a magazine by an interior decorator. He wrapped and packed up anything that was dragon-themed, the handful of photographs from the mantel piece. He checked the bookshelves, but there was nothing personal to bother to take—it was all pristine copies of best sellers. The kitchen he left, except for the hand-painted mug inked with ‘ _World’s Best Dad_ ’—he put that away with a lump in his throat. 

The study/home office was much more impersonal. Paperwork went disorganized into archive boxes to be sent to Mokuba. The bathroom and the en-suite were easiest. He tossed everything into a trash bag, without hesitation. The cologne was probably worth more than Yusef made in a year, but Katsuya couldn’t handle the idea that someone would be wearing Seto’s scent. 

The bedroom, though. That was hard. Seto was always in a rush when he was in New York—packing as much in as little time as possible to minimize time time he needed to spend in a country that he hated. There was a broken watch and a stack of receipts in the bedside table, a few business cards he no doubt meant to throw away, and a single ebony chopstick from the set he usually kept in his breast pocket. 

The walk-in-robe smelled like Seto in the mornings, freshly dressed and ready for work before Katsuya had even sat up. For most of their marriage, Seto had always sat on the edge of the mattress and kissed him good morning and goodbye. 

Except during the last year. He hadn’t then. 

Katsuya went into the drawers first. Neat little stacks of rolled up socks and underwear—the underwear went into the trash bag, but he stole the socks for his own personal stash. You could never have too many socks. Undershirts, he dumped them all into a box to donate. 

Piece by piece, item of clothing by item, he got through the wardrobe. It was really only the bare minimum, but then—there. Tucked right up the back. There it was. 

Trembling, he reached up to carefully ease the fabric away from the wooden hanger. His nose was taunted with an old, familiar scent—cologne, and freshly brewed arabica coffee, something mechanical that reminded him of the R&D floors in KaibaCorp. The wine-red lining was liquidsmooth under his fingertips. 

His eyes blurred, stinging. A tight knot twisted in his throat and he buried his face in the stiff, upright collar. He fought with the sobs building in his chest. 

It took a few moments for him to drag himself back under control. There was no time for all that. He packed the coat away. 

That was the last of it. 

He headed back to Brooklyn, the trunk of the town-car packed up with everything was being kept. The rest left with Yusef to be disposed or donated when the right time came around for collection. 

Noa was excited to see him, babbling on about everything they had done this afternoon with Isa and Tía Isobel. He smiled and listened, answering when he needed but mostly letting him chatter on as far as he wanted. 

After a pause, Noa looked at him in concern. “Tou-san? Are you alright?” 

Katsuya reached out and ruffled his fringe. “I will be, kid. I promise.” 

~*~ 

They made the move back to Domino City. Isa was too unsettled in New York—and they got their definite no from the Little Einstein Kindergarten. Mokuba lent them the use of the Kaiba Corp jet to come over with all their boxes and things. 

He moved them all back into the penthouse. For now, Noa slept in the old nursery on a hospital cot; he’d never really liked the Japanese-style futons. Isa had Mokuba’s old room, because she had the seniority. 

Katsuya had the couch in Seto’s home office. The Master Suite sat empty. 

Mokuba helped Noa get into one of the advanced learning pre-schools. No need for a scholarship, Seto had left them plenty of money. He was more than happy to use it for big things like that, but for the day-to-day stuff he refused. He needed to be able to support his family. 

Mokuba offered him something at Kaiba Corp. But he couldn’t take that. The local council offered him a seat on the board, helping to form the table that would decide on fund allocations. But he was never good at that sort of stuff. 

In the end, he applied to take his old job back. Perhaps if he filled the holes in his life with more from the past, he might forget the one empty space that could never be filled again. 

Each night, he lay down on the couch in the old office. The White Coat, the one that had been his husband’s battle armour, was now his blanket—and his barrier against the world. Smuggled into a wooden footlocker during the day, he only brought it out when the kids were fast asleep. He didn’t want to give them any more painful associations. 

He kept all of those to himself. 

~*~ 

_Five Years Ago…_

_Divorced._

_Ex-husband._

_Divorcee._

_He felt out the words. He tried to make sense of them in his head. His marriage was over. It was done. Paperwork signed and filed. Official._

_“Jou?”_

_He glanced up. Yuugi was standing in the doorway, giving him a concerned look. “Huh?”_

_“We’re about to toast the new year,” the smaller man said. “Are you coming in?”_

_“Yeah… yeah. Just…. Got a phone call.” He slipped the cellphone back into his pocket and turned properly to face his friend. Following Yuugi inside the tea house, he tried to perk himself back up. Mokuba was paying for the room for the night. Seto… Kaiba had been there for midnight and welcoming in the new year—he left at 1am, and Katsuya had shown up not long after. He almost wished he hadn’t come._

_He couldn’t focus enough to listen to everyone’s plans and toasts for the new year. Eventually, there was a silence and expectant eyes settled on him. “Guess it’s my turn, huh?”_

_That earned him a few laughs as sake cups were refilled. He offered his cup to the geisha who was pouring out tea._

_“Well… I have good news. And I have bad news.” The painted artisan moved away and he realised he was knelt directly across from the last person in the world he wanted to see. He stared Atemu dead in the face. “I’m going to have a baby,” he said. “The letter came in from the surrogacy agency a few weeks ago. It finally happened.”_

_Honda tensed beside him. Most of the others mostly gasped, excited—Atemu’s face turned stone-cold furious._

_“Jou!” Yuugi cried. “That’s wonderful. You and Seto must be so excited!”_

_Atemu downed his sake cup, eyes dangerous._

_“Well…” Katsuya began again. “That’s the other news.” He met the former pharaoh’s eyes, unrelenting and steady. “Seto and I are divorced. We finalized the paperwork this week.”_

_A stunned silence followed. The ceramic cup in Mokuba’s hand cracked under the force of his grip, sake spilling over his fingers. Nobody seemed to know what to say. Atemu’s eyes were victorious._

_Honda spoke first. “His loss.” He held up his sake cup. “To Katsuya—his new life, and my future godson.”_

_“Kanpai,” Katsuya said. He rose his cup, downed the green tea, and looked away from Atemu._

~*~ 

Katsuya had too much to do. First, there was Isa’s first day of school for the year — last year of primary school. Noa’s first day of primary school—some place the KaibaCorp’s HeadStart program had highly recommended. 

“Isa! You’ve got twenty minutes!” 

“I’ll be down when I’m ready, Katsuchan!” 

He’d elected himself two hours to get them both settled in before he could leave them for the day. He’d allotted an hour to call Jack and see when he was next coming to Domino. Then he had his formal interview with the library so he could have his old job after the old lady retired—nobody was actually trying to stop him from taking it, but there were formalities he wasn’t used to. 

“Dad, where are my new socks?” 

“They’re in your sock drawer!” 

Then he had a consult at the optical surgeons, although maybe he should just put it off again… 

“Jou…” 

“Hold on I’m just plating up breakfast. Isa! Fifteen minutes!” 

The board meeting for the public funds allocation was at two, and he hoped they were finally submitting the petition to reallocate some funds away from the Christmas decorations onto the new public play park—he was fully prepared to throw his support behind it. 

“Jou!” 

“...two seconds…” 

It was strange to be the one on the board instead of the one struggling for the attention of the table— 

He paused and turned around, a plate still held in his numb hand. Standing in the doorway of the kitchen was… 

There was a crash and he felt something scalding soaking into his jeans. 

“ **Isa**!” 

“Katsuchan, I’m not ready!” 

“ **Isa get down here**!” 

“Katsuya! I still have fourteen minutes!” 

“ **Now**!” 

There was an annoyed yell from her bedroom and the sounds of loud stomping across the hall and toward the kitchen. Katsuya didn’t take his eyes off the figure in the doorway. The impossible, numbingly impossible figure that was there, but couldn’t be. If it wasn’t for the burns slowly seeping into his flesh he would believe it was a dream. 

“Katsuya, what are you—” Isa fell silent, coming to a complete stop in the other doorway as soon as she saw “Dad?” 

“Isa…” Seto breathed, looking at his daughter across the marble kitchen tiles. His knees bent, or gave out, or something and he was kneeling, arms open to catch the girl as she ran into his arms. 

Katsuya silently moved to the sink, opening the cupboard underneath and getting out the dustpan and brush. He swept up the broken shards of the plate, keeping his eyes focused on his task. Once it was picked up - thankfully breaking in large shards and no tiny bits to stick in shoeless feet. 

When he had packed it away again, they were still clinging to one another and murmuring inaudibly. Isa was crying softly, face buried in a shabby grey coat. He slipped past, padding as softly as he could up the hall and into Noa’s room. His boy had one sock on, the other clutched in his hand, but he’d fallen back asleep on the bed, snoring softly. Katsuya sat next to him on the mattress, taking the sock gently and tugging it over his bare foot. 

He mumbled sleepily, and Katsuya picked him up and tucked him into his neck. He scooped up his boy’s school case with his free hand. 

He penned a quick note on the whiteboard beside the front door telling Isa when he would be back. Closing the front door as quietly as possible, he crossed to the elevator and waited. 

Too much to do today. Isa was… now pulled out of the daily plan. He would definitely be cancelling his consult at the opticians. He had no time to think of… what had just happened. 

He thanked the valet for his car and slipped in, driving to a drive-thru coffee franchise. When the smell of the coffee filled the car, Noa stirred and sat up in his booster seat. “Dad?” 

“Morning, sleepy head.” He passed him a toasted sandwich, “quick breakfast this morning, kiddo.” 

“What’s the matter, Dad?” Noa asked in concern, unwrapping his food. 

Katsuya’s fingers tapped against the steering wheel, watching through the windshield for a long, long moment. “Would you rather know now and have it effect your first day at school, or let me tell you when I pick you up?” 

Noa gave him a look in the rearview mirror, munching on the toasted sandwich. “Okay,” he said. “You can tell me when you pick me up.” 

Katsuya breathed a sigh of relief. 

He went through the day, hoping he wasn’t coming across as mechanical as he felt. He was at a constant battle with himself not daring to let his mind back to the penthouse and who was there. 

After lunchtime, he returned home. He sighed, feeling utterly exhausted even though the day was only half over. He leaned against the glass door, slowly undoing his shoelaces so he could change into his house slippers. On the back of the door, the whiteboard was marked with Isa’s neat, curvy hiragana saying that she was going to school and would be home at the usual time. 

He gave a tired groan, making his way to the kitchen. He’d eat something, then try and sort through the mess in his head. Lawyers would have to be contacted. Seto’s official death certificate would have to be retracted. Property deeds, bank balances, cars—they all had to be put back into Seto’s name. And fuck, Kaiba Towers—if Seto didn’t want to keep it on, then it would be a public nightmare. Maybe he could get Mokuba to convince his brother to… 

Fuck, did Mokuba even know? 

He went to the kitchen, put the kettle on to boil. Got his chanoyu set out—he needed to clear his head. While he waited for that, he checked his phone. There was nothing from Mokuba. 

He fired off a quick text: 

_‘Do u know?’_

He didn’t get an answer right away, which meant that Mokuba was in a meeting and wouldn’t reply until he could finish it up. 

He carried everything into the sitting room, kicking his slippers off and kneeling on the tatami mat. He went through the whole elaborate tea ceremony, sitting back afterward and enjoying the calmness that flowed through him. He gathered everything on a tray and stood to take it back to the kitchen. He froze when he caught sight of the figure lingering in the doorway. 

He dropped his eyes down immediately. “Don’t be creepy, Kaiba. Make some noise or something, geez. What are you, a ghost?” 

The joke fell flat. 

He was frazzled again. Seto always could unnerve him in an instant. “I didn’t know you were still here.” 

“Isa told me to be here when she got home from school,” Seto replied. “I ought to have asked first, but—” 

“No, it’s your house. You don’t have to ask to be here,” he interrupted. 

“It’s not…” Kaiba replied, his voice hesitant. “It’s not really mine.” 

“Well, not right now. But it won’t be too hard to put everything back in your name… well, except…” 

“Except Kaiba Towers, in Manhattan,” Seto finished for him. “Yes, our hands are rather tied about that one.” 

Katsuya cringed. “Are you really mad about it?” 

“Well I didn’t spend billions of dollars to build a homeless shelter,” Seto replied. But then he said, in a much softer voice: “but you always did take what I gave you and bring the best out of it.” 

Katsuya swallowed, fingers tapping restlessly on the bottom of the tray. “I guess.” 

There was an awkward pause. “But that’s not what meant. This place was never _my_ place. It was ours. We moved in after the wedding, and I didn’t live here after you… after we…” He trailed off. 

“After.” That explained it all. 

“Right.” Another awkward pause. “But I said, even back then, that you could have this place.” 

He gave a bitter smile. “It’s not mine. It’s ours.” 

“Hn.” They were silent again. “Isa said you’re renovating soon?” 

“Yeah. The nursery hardly suits a school-age kid,” he replied. 

“Or Mokuba’s bedroom.” 

Katsuya’s iPhone began to ring with his alarm. He fished it out of his pocket. Time to pick Noa up from school. He paused, tapping the phone against his lips. “You need to meet someone. Will you still be here when I get back?” 

Seto’s posture stiffened. Katsuya could easily remember the stiff, cold neutral expression that would cross his face. “Very well. I’ll wait here.” 

He knew what Seto was thinking—that he was going to introduce him to his significant other. But he couldn’t explain who he was really bringing. The proof would have to break the news. 

He just left, going to pick Noa up from school. His boy wouldn’t let him ask about his first day. He gave Katsuya a familiar, stubborn expression. “What happened this morning, Dad?” 

He sighed. “Okay. Fine.” He took his boy’s hand carefully. “I don’t know how to tell you, kiddo.” 

“Just say it,” Noa replied wisely, “without being afraid of upsetting me.” 

Katsuya took a deep breath at that. Fingers tapping restlessly on his other side. “Your other father is alive. 

Noa looked at him silently for a long moment, his little eyebrows wrinkling up in confusion. “How? Uncle Mokuba said that his helicopter crashed.” 

Jou realized he’d never asked. His mind had been all over the place — he hadn’t even thought about the details. “I actually don’t know.” 

“Does this mean Isa won’t be my sister any more?” Noa asked, his eyes tearing up. 

“I don’t know,” he replied honestly. “We’ll have to talk about things, make some new arrangements.” 

“Oh. Will we move back to New York?” 

“I don’t think so. This is a good school. Would you want to?” 

“No,” his boy answered, looking down at his feet. “I want to stay here with you and Isa and Uncle Mokuba.” 

He sighed. “Well. I told him to stay at the apartment because there’s someone I want him to meet. Are you ready for that?” 

His boy nodded. “Yes, Dad. I’m ready.” 

Katsuya pretended to believe him, to not notice how tightly Noa was squeezing his hand. He got to hear about his boy’s first day at school while they made the journey home. 

His boy was quiet on the elevator. One hand clamped tightly in Jou’s, the other tugging anxiously at the hem of his shorts. Before they stepped up to the front door, Noa froze mid-step. “Dad,” he whispered, in anxious English, “what if he doesn’t like me?” 

Katsuya smiled, ruffling his hair. “Then we tell Mokuba you were upset and he’ll give him a stern talking to.” 

That seemed to settle his boy. He let go of Katsuya’s hand, took a deep breath and headed instead. 

They stood awkwardly in the sitting room. “Kaiba?” He called uncertainly. “Are you still there?” 

The double doors of the Master Suite swung back and out stepped Kaiba Seto. He was wearing the white Kaiba Coat—his battle armour. Watching the sudden stop as he spotted the small figure of Noa was sort of funny. He could clearly picture the widened eyes and blank features that was Seto’s ‘surprised’ face. Seto had come out with all his theatricality and it had all broken thanks to one five year old boy. 

“Hello,” his boy sad, his voice small but confident. “My name is Kaiba Noa. Pleased to meet you.” 

Katsuya felt Seto’s eyes on him, but he kept watching anywhere else determinedly. 

“Pleased to meet you, Noa,” he replied, after a moment to gather himself. “I’m Seto.” 

“I know.” Noa said. “Uncle Mokuba said you were dead. We were all very sad.” 

“I’m sorry for that,” Seto answered uncertainly. “Circumstances were out of my hands. But I **am** alive, and I’m home now.” 

“Do we have to move?” Noa asked, sounding upset. “I want to stay here with Dad and keep having Isa as my nee-chan.” 

Katsuya felt Seto’s eyes on him again. He looked very hard at the scuff mark on the front of his shoes. 

“Well. I don’t see any reason why you can’t. But your father and I will discuss it later. Is that okay?” 

Noa and Seto spent hours talking—with Isa too, once she got home. Katsuya felt awkward, on the fringe, texting with Mokuba, making dinner, keeping himself out of the way. 

Eventually, the kids did go off to bed. They were alone. 

He glanced in Seto’s direction uncomfortably, then started tidying up the mess kids always seemed to accumulate. No matter how clean they were trying to be. 

“Jou.” He tensed, coming to a stop. “We should discuss things.” 

“Yeah, you’re right,” he said. “Can you wait? I need to get everything tidied up.” 

“It can wait,” he said softly. “It’s a serviced apartment block. We’ll be fine.” 

Katsuya frowned, going back to picking up the mess. “We don’t need to rely on them. It’s just a little mess.” 

Seto sighed, and didn’t say anything while Katsuya finished packing up the living room. “Now, will you take a seat? I don’t think I’ve seen you off your feet all night.” 

Katsuya sighed and settled into the armchair. “Alright, where should we start?” 

“Would you look at me?” 

Katsuya winced, and closed his eyes. “No,” he said weakly. 

“Fine,” Seto said, irritable. “We won’t be mature about the matter.” 

He snorted at that. “So. Where should we start?” He repeated. 

“Noa.” 

Katsuya winced. “Right…” 

“You never told me.” 

“...I know,” he said quietly. “At first, I was mad at you. You had just divorced me, and I thought: I already warned you that you’d have no part in my future family. At first, I didn’t know which one of us was the donor. By the time he started getting old enough for it to be obvious, it seemed too long to tell you.” He sighed. “I thought about it. Every time you were in New York. Noa didn’t…” He shook his head at himself. “I know. There’s no excuse for it. I should have told you. But then you were dead and your will was old and then there was Isa and all your properties and then—” 

“Jou,” Seto interrupted. “I know. I forgive you.” He paused, one hand going up to fiddle with the card locket around his neck. “I knew you had a son. I just never guessed he was…” he paused. 

“He’s yours. The surrogacy in New York.” 

“You were going to tell me,” Seto said in realisation. 

Katsuya frowned at that. “Huh?” 

“That month,” Seto replied, “our last Christmas. We had this argument in the library. You asked if we had a child if it would have been harder to leave you.” 

He couldn’t remember. But the mention of it made him angry enough it was probably true. “I was going to tell you for Christmas, I remember that. But you got your divorce instead.” 

Seto sighed. His body shifted slightly, as if he’d turned his head to look back at the nursery door. Remembering their past, or just looking to Noa’s bedroom? “Noa wants to stay with Isa,” he pointed out. 

“They’ve gotten close,” Katsuya explained. “You never changed your will. I thought we were going to be a family together. I never saw _this_ coming.” 

“I did,” Seto answered. He paused. “Change my will, I mean. Not see this coming. I changed it a few times,” he corrected. “That last will was only a few months old.” 

Katsuya shot a confused look in his ex-husband’s direction. “Then why did…?” 

“I thought it would be the best,” Seto replied. “Isa knew you. You’d make a good home for her.” He gave a slight smile. “You _have_.” 

He shifted awkwardly at that comment, eyes going back to his house slippers. “Well. I guess it was all for nothing now.” The thought of that hurt. 

In the past few months, he’d put their life together. Isa was sweet, in the past few months he’d grown to love her as much as Noa. She wasn’t exactly the same little girl from the orphanage—Seto had spoiled her shamelessly, lovingly. She wasn’t too bad, just a little conceited and demanding. Clearly used to having the best of everything as soon as she asked for it. 

She’d adjusted to a stricter life with him, but that would end. They would be splitting up. Noa  & Katsuya and Seto & Isa. It hurt. It felt like loss all over again—even if it hadn’t happened yet. 

“Perhaps it doesn’t have to be.” 

His eyes immediately darted over to Kaiba, settling somewhere on his shoulder. He’d taken off the coat some hours earlier, but his shoulders were broad enough without the padding. 

“Why don’t you and Noa stay in Domino? Live here—or in another apartment, if you don’t want to co-habitate. We could be—” Seto stopped then. He… he was going to say ‘family’, wasn’t he? “Neighbours.” 

He swallowed. Guess not. “Perhaps room-mates. I can’t move Noa yet, he’s just started his primary school. He needs stability. We have to stay here for now, but we’ll see how it goes.” He sighed. “Where have you been, Seto? It’s been _months_.” 

“Captive, for most of it,” he replied. Too calmly. “Then caught up in Immigration and Border Control. I didn’t have identification.” 

“Captive?” Katsuya asked. 

“Do you remember Schroeder?” 

“The pink haired guy? Tried to ruin your company at your own tournament?” 

“His hospitality leaves something to be desired.” 

Katsuya wrinkled his nose up. “Why would he…?” 

“He bragged that my death would cause enough instability in the company that he could buy it out from Mokuba.” 

“I take it that failed?” Katsuya asked. 

“Spectacularly,” he said smugly. “Mokuba dragged him through the mud, bought out Schroeder Corp in a single lunchbreak, and handed it over to Leon before close of business in Berlin.” 

Katsuya smiled at that. “Never underestimate Mokuba.” 

“Indeed.” Seto paused. “Jou… I’m sorry if this time has been distressing for you. I really didn’t intend…” 

He waved his hand dismissively, still not meeting the blue eyes. “Forget about it. Water under the bridge.” 

Seto sighed. There was a long pause, then a stifled yawn. He must be exhausted, the lines of his body were slowly bowing with tiredness. “Would you mind getting out some of the spare linen for me? I’ll set myself up on the couch in my study.” 

“No,” Katsuya said quickly. “That’s fine. You can have the Master Suite.” 

“There’s no need to put yourself out, Jou,” he replied. 

“Don’t worry about it. You take the bed.” 

“I really don’t mind the couch.” 

“Believe me, it’s not necessary.” 

“Will you fetch the linen then?” 

“Kaiba. Take the bed.” 

“Jounouchi.” 

“Not my name. Bed.” 

“Do you really want to try and out-stubborn me right now?” 

“I raised a _two year old_ ,” he retaliated. “Do you?” 

“...touché. I’ll take the bedroom. But if I can’t sleep, I’ll let you move, alright?” 

“Do you need to borrow pyjamas?” 

“I’ll be fine. Mokuba bought some clothes for me. Thank you.” 

The two of them awkwardly stood by one another for a moment, neither looking at the other. 

“Well… goodnight.” 

“Goodnight.” 

~*~ 

Half-asleep, he was aware of a voice calling him. He groaned and hid his face, tugging the coat closer over him. 

“Katsuya.” 

“Hm?” 

Hands reached down to tug the coat off of his head. He whined and gripped tight, in case they tried to take it away from him. 

“Katsuya?” 

“Mhm?” 

The hands released the coat. “Are you asleep?” 

“Mm.” 

There was a pause, he drifted back into sleep. He stirred again, feeling strong, warm arms lifting him up and carrying him away. He shifted, burying his face closer into the warm shoulder. He inhaled deeply, a slight smile crossing his lips. He knew that smell. That was a good smell. The smell of love, and family, and belonging. 

He drifted back to sleep again. 


	2. A New Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's that time of year again!  
> It's not formatted particularly well because I only have my laptop but I'll fix it up in the new year. Merry Christmas everyone!

“Daaaaad!” Noa cried. “You’re going to make me late for school!” 

He sat up abruptly. “Shit,” he whispered. “I’m up! Give me a minute!” What the hell was the time? He was all disjointed and out of sorts. This wasn’t the office. He wasn’t on the couch. 

How the hell had he gotten into the Master Suite? He pushed the blankets off him, saw the white coat tangled up in the sheets. He slipped out of bed, wincing as his cold feet hit the mat. 

He grabbed a change of clothes, hurriedly tugged them on and pushed out of the doors. He came upon Seto, kneeling at Noa’s feet, tying his shoelaces up. “Then the bunny jumps into the hole… and pops out the other side,” he murmured, tugging them tight. “Can you remember that?” 

“Yes, Mr Seto.” He looked up at Katsuya in the door of the room. “Dad, I’m all ready. Can we go now?” 

“I was never this excited to go to school,” Katsuya said. 

“I was,” Seto said quietly. 

He shifted awkwardly at that. “Where’s your schoolbag, Noa? Did you get obento yet?” He asked. 

“Yes, Dad. Mr Seto made them for me and Isa. I have my bag here.” He grabbed his dad’s hand and started dragging him towards the door. “Come ooooon, it’s school time.” 

Katsuya narrowed his eyes, and then turned a glare on Kaiba. “Did you give him coffee?” 

“Just a few sips of mine. He said you let him have some of your coffee in the mornings.” 

“He lied.” He gave Noa a disapproving look, but his boy just gave him a cheeky grin. “And his dad will come up with a punishment for him when he’s a bit more awake.” He paused by the door, shoving his feet into the shoes Noa already had waiting for him there. “Alright, alright. I’m coming.” The whiteboard said Isa had just left. 

He felt Seto’s eyes on him as he left, but he did not have time to deal with that. He had to rush. Noa had to be dropped off at school, then he had to come back, get ready and neat for the council today. He didn’t even remember his phone. 

By the time he got back to the apartment, he was conscious of the headache gathering behind his eyes. But he couldn’t do anything about it. 

He toed off his shoes and headed straight towards the main bathroom. He came to a stop when Kaiba appeared, arms folded, glaring at him in determination. He dropped his eyes down, and spotted his iPhone in Seto’s hand. 

“Uh. Did you try to call me?” He asked, not understanding what Seto was mad about. 

“No.” He felt the glare harden on him. “Your optometrist did.” 

“Oh, shit,” he groaned, rubbing his forehead with his fingertips. At least it hadn’t been Jack. That was not a conversation he wanted to have right now. “I meant to call him yesterday. I really did. But things got away from him.” 

“He said it’s the eighth appointment you’ve rescheduled,” he said. “At their clinic. I don’t want to imagine how many you cancelled in New York.” 

Katsuya cringed at his tone of voice. “Okay. I didn’t realise how many it’d been. I’ll call and reschedule.” 

“Jounouchi, he says your eyes are deteriorating. That you’re supposed to be getting a consult for laser surgery.” 

“I know what it’s for,” Katsuya replied impatiently. “If you’ve forgotten , it’s been a busy six months for me.” 

Seto folded his arms. When he spoke again, his voice was angry. “I think you’re just making excuses, Katsuya. Because you’re scared .” 

“...okay, wow.” He glared hard at the pristine white socks of his ex-husband. 

“You don’t get to analyse me like that any more, Kaiba Seto.” 

“Any idiot can see it, Jounouchi.” 

“Still not my name.” 

There was an awkward pause between them. “Well I can’t call you Kaiba. That is too strange.” 

Katsuya rubbed his arm awkwardly. “Right.” He turned his eyes down toward his own feet. “I might lose my eyesight.” 

“You’re going to lose your eyesight if you don’t do something about it,” Seto snapped impatiently. 

He flinched and turned away. “I’m using the eyedrops,” he insisted, “that’ll do.” 

“Which you can discuss with your optometrist . In the appointment you have scheduled for ten minute from now.” 

“Ten minutes?” He asked, horrified. “Seto, I haven’t even showered this morning.” 

“No more excuses,” Seto said stubbornly. “I’m not budging on this. You need to be at your best to take care of our kids.” 

“Our kids?” He retaliated. “What our kids? You have your daughter, and I have my boy. You’re not his father!” 

Seto’s tone was cold. “Pissing me off isn’t going to distract me, Katsuya. You’re going to this appointment even if I have to throw you over my shoulder and carry you out of here.” 

“You wouldn’t dare.” 

Half an hour later, he know that Kaiba would in fact dare. He was sitting in one of the hard seats at the optometrist, his ex-husband sitting in the corner of the office glaring at him and refusing to let him leave. 

The optometrist pulled away, turning off his pin-light, giving him a frown. “Are you having a migraine right now, Kaiba-san?” She asked. 

“It started about half an hour ago,” he said, shrugging. “It’s not bad yet.” 

She hummed and took her seat, taking out her clipboard and making some notes. 

Questions upon questions followed, Katsuya’s irritation growing at every moment. Eventually, she said she’d consult with his former optician in New York and promised to call within a few days. 

Katsuya left, ignoring Seto and heading over to the car. 

“Well. Now that’s over with.” 

“Fuck off.” 

Seto sighed, and silently started the car. “If it’s about money…” 

“I said fuck off, Kaiba,” he growled. 

The rest of the drive was silent. 

~*~ 

“The best part—” Isa was saying excitedly, “is that Christmas is on a Saturday this year! So I don’t have to go to school!” 

Noa nodded attentively. But instead of replying directly to her, he turned to ask Katsuya: “where are we going for Christmas this year, Dad? I don’t know of any soup kitchens around here.” 

The blond was busy at the stove, frying off thin sheets of egg to roll for the kids’ bento. 

Behind him, he heard the newspaper fold as Kaiba looked at him over the top of it. 

He carefully kept his hands moving as he answered: “there’s a few I can think of. 

We’ll talk about it later, alright?” 

“Yes Dad,” his boy answered, and went back to chatting with Isa. 

Katsuya suspected he would hear more about it later - and he was not mistaken. Later that evening, working through piles of paperwork at the dining table, he heard Kaiba come in and sit down across from him. The kids were in Noa’s room, playing some game in earnest - a caterer was busy in the kitchen, and Mokuba had disappeared into his bedroom/office half an hour ago. 

“Evening,” he greeted, just a little warily. 

“Paperwork,” Kaiba remarked sympathetically. 

“You didn’t come here to bug me about paperwork ,” he answered irritably. 

“No,” the brunet agreed. “I came to ask you about Christmas.” 

He groaned, and pushed away the sheets of paper. “Alright,” he said. “Let’s do this now.” 

“You and Noa don’t celebrate?” 

“It was never my favourite time of year,” he said flatly. “Sometimes we went to my mother’s. But you remember how well they go.” 

“Hn.” 

“Usually we volunteer in soup kitchens. Noa likes to hand out the dinner rolls.” He set everything into piles, avoiding looking at his ex-husband, as he always did these days. “I hadn’t made plans yet. You’re welcome to try and convince him he should try it your way this year.” 

“And you?” 

Katsuya just stayed silent at that. 

“Right. I’ll talk to Noa about it. In the meantime, Kaiba Corp has several soup kitchens in the city Mokuba would be glad to organize for you. Usually we buy them all K.F.C. for Christmas Day.” 

“Probably more things you should discuss with Noa,” he added. “I leave the choices up to him. In recent years, he’s done all the research himself. I just have to put our names down and take us here.” 

“You give our son a lot of independence.” 

“My son,” Katsuya corrected, “and yeah. I do. He has boundaries, obviously \- and I always get the final say. He’s better for it. And he’ll be learning responsibility, quicker and easier.” He smiled slightly, proud of his boy. “I’m not forcing him to do anything. Except stop him from having coffee until he’s older.” 

“And obviously that’s the one thing he’s always fighting for,” Kaiba said, his voice curled with a smirk. 

“Well. You never tell a Kaiba ‘no ’ without a fight.” He picked up his papers, trying to signal the end of their conversation. 

It didn’t work. “You know. There’s a perfectly good desk in the Master Suite.” 

“That’s your room,” Katsuya replied. “And your desk.” 

“You sleep on the couch, you do your paperwork on the dining room table. You keep your clothes in Noa’s room.” 

“Yeah. Your point?” 

“Jou. This is your home. What part of it is yours?” 

“Kaiba. I couldn’t afford a two-bedroom apartment in New York, even in Brooklyn. This isn’t exactly new for me.” He gave the brunet a look - or rather, his shoulder a look. “You forget that we’re not all rich bastards like you.” 

“I have three apartments in New York. You should’ve asked for one.” 

Katsuya gave him another look. 

“Right. Never mind that. I’ll let you finish your paperwork.” 

~*~ 

“Mokuba, go to bed,” Katsuya said gently. “It’s late, and you work in the morning. I’ll tidy up. You’re asleep on your feet.” 

The younger brother nodded, said goodbye to through a large yawn and shuffled off to his bedroom. Katsuya started gathering up the mess of wrapping paper, opened packaging and crepe paper. It all went into a large black bin liner that he’d take to the recycling later. 

“Katsuya.” 

He jumped, startled. “Kaiba! You scared the hell outta me. I thought you’d fallen asleep with Noa.” 

“No,” he answered. “It just took a while for him to get to sleep. He was very energized.” 

“Christmas tends to do that to kids,” Katsuya pointed out, leaving the bag for the housekeeping staff to deal with in the morning. “You should probably go to bed. It’s late.” 

“There’s something I want to show you, actually.” 

“Oh?” 

“Put this on?” 

He turned to look - and saw a generic sleeping eye-mask dangling from long, delicate fingers. He pulled a face as he took it, putting it over his eyes. “Where are we going?” 

“Not far.” A hand gripped his wrist to lead him. He tried to ignore the sparks as their skin brushed. 

Kaiba led him from the living room - out of the apartment and into the waiting elevator. It didn’t go far, probably only down one floor until the doors opened with a soft ping! He was carefully guided down a hall, coming to a stop on some highly polished floorboards. 

“Can I take this off yet?” 

“Just a moment.” he light around the edges of the mask lightened - a soft, natural yellow. “Okay. Now.” 

It was the apartment of their downstairs neighbours. All the furniture had been cleared out - the only things left were tatami mat and a series of paper lanterns in the nearest rooms. 

He looked around the apartment, confused. “What’s this about?” 

“The Tanakas are moving in with their daughter - I bought the apartment from them.” 

“...okay?” Katsuya said uncertainly. 

“It’s right below ours,” he said, pulling Katsuya to a part of the room with what turned out to be blueprints spread across the mats. “Look, we can put in some stairs here - I’ve already spoken to Mokuba, and he’s happy to give you his bedroom upstairs. He wants a Master Suite down here. The other rooms can be turned into home offices - this one will be a playroom for our kids.” 

Katsuya looked around the designs. “...you’ve really thought about this.” 

“I hired an architect, Katsuya,” Kaiba replied, a smirk obvious in his voice. “”I think that demonstrates my seriousness on the matter.” 

“When were you planning on this happening?” He asked, standing up straight. 

“Well. Assuming I have your approval, I have the firm ready to start work after 

New Year.” 

“Why wouldn’t I approve?” 

There was a low sigh, and Katsuya felt eyes settle on him intensely. “It occurred to me 

that perhaps you would rather move out, and stay down here with Noa.” 

He made a surprised noise at that. 

“We initially made the arrangement as a test to see if we could cohabitate. I realize we never had a follow-up conversation about it - so… yes. We’ll leave the decision up to you on the matter.” 

Katsuya frowned. “I’m content with what we have as a family. This would make things less crowded. But why would you think I’d move out?” 

“You won’t look at me.” A stunned silence followed his words. “I’ve been back for three months, and you haven’t looked me in the face once. Things aren’t okay between us, Katsuya - no matter what we pretend to everyone else. If you need this distance from me to be happy, I will gladly give you this apartment.” 

Katsuya gave a long, tired sigh. “I can’t. I can’t look at you,” he said weakly. “I’ve had this dream before. It feels like years since you’ve been back sometimes, but then as soon as I look in your face, I wake up. I can’t deal with that again.” 

“Katsuya…” The other shifted and stepped up behind him. He could feel the heat of his hand as it hovered 

over his shoulder. Then he moved it away. 

Katsuya relaxed. But then he felt Kaiba’s long, dexterous fingers pinching the skin of his arm. “Ow!” he yelled furiously, turning around to snap at him. 

The same fingers lifted his chin until he met familiar, steel-grey eyes. “Vivir con miedo es como vivir a medias.**” 

Seto looked… tired. Older, with frown lines around his mouth and a crease between his browns, silver hairs streaked back from his temple. There was something sad in his eyes. 

Katsuya batted his hand away and turned back to look at the blueprints. “So, where are the bathrooms?” 

~*~ 

“Are you sure you’re okay to watch the kid tonight?” Katsuya asked, handing a mug of coffee to Seto, who glared at him. “What if something happens at work or a business meeting runs long?” 

“Then Mokuba can watch them until I get home. Relax, Katsuya.” Kaiba sipped his coffee. “Sugar?” 

“I’ll just call a sitter,” he said, turning to grab the jar of sugar and spooning three scoops into Kaiba’s mug. 

“That way you don’t have to worry about it.” He turned back to put down the sugar jar and pick up his phone. 

“Katsuya. Relax. I’ll be there.” He drained his mug and set it down. “Thank you for the coffee. I’ll be home by five thirty.” 

“Six at the latest, okay? Or I’ll need to call a sitter.” 

“Six at the latest,” Kaiba repeated, eyeing him. “I’d better head off to work. I have a call with New York.” 

Katsuya watched the clock all day, and at five he let the kids play in the downstairs playroom as he showered and got ready for his night. Quarter to six, he heard the front door open and waked out, buttoning his cuffs. 

Kaiba was standing by the front oor, toeing off his shoes to change into his house slippers. 

“Oh good. You’re home,” Katsuya said. “You had me worried.” 

“Before six, you said.” 

“By five-thirty, you said,” Katsuya replied, rolling his eyes. 

“You look nice,” he commented, looking him over. “Where are you going out to dinner?” 

“Don’t know. He’s picking me up.” He straightened his shirt. “Caterer left a nimono on the stove for you and Mokuba. There’s oyakodon for the kids - or a tofu stir fry for Isa if she’s still on her vegan kick.” 

The doorbell rang. “You called a sitter?” Kaiba asked, opening the door. 

The blond standing beyond the door blinked at Seto. He bowed politely, if a little arrogantly, and his eyes slid past him to Katsuya. He smiled. “Joey. You ready to go?” 

“Just gotta grab my wallet. Do you wanna go down and see Noa? He said he drew up some new designs for your D-Wheel.” 

“He down in the playroom?” Jack asked, stepping in and crouching to unlace his shoes. 

“You know the way.” 

Katsuya headed back to his bedroom, going to his bedside table to grab his wallet and keys. He jumped when he saw Kaiba looming in his doorway. “Geez. Stomp or something, would you?” He filled his pockets up. “What’s up?” 

“Why does Jack Atlas - Sultan of Speed, King of Turbo Duels - know where our children’s playroom is?” Seto growled. 

Katsuya raised his eyebrows. “Gee. Why would my boyfriend of three years know the layout of the place where I live?” He gave the brunet a look. 

His face was carefully blank. “I’d understand if you’d brought him to the apartment before, when I was...away. But he’s been here. Since the renovation. Without you informing me that you were bringing someone into my home.” 

“Three. Years.” Katsuya repeated coldly. “I know him, he’s trustworthy. I married you after a year.” 

“You had known me since high school,” Seto deadpanned. 

“And look how trustworthy you turned out to be.” He sighed in frustration. “I’m going to pause this argument until I’ve got enough time to figure out what you’re really upset about.” He moved past him, grabbing his leather jacket. “No coffee for Noa, make sure they’re in bed by nine, lights off at ten. I’ll be back before breakfast tomorrow. If anything happens, text me - I’ll call back when I can.” 

Kaiba stomped off without another word. 

Jack was downstairs with his boy, looking over some designs. He listened attentively to Noa’s claims about increased thrust at take off, a more aerodynamic design for the bike itself. When he spotted Katsuya, he folded the pages p and put them in his pocket. “I’ll give these to my mechanic, Noa. Keep up the good work.” 

“Okay. Bye Jack.” He darted over to hug Katsuya. “Have fun, Dad. See you tomorrow!” He darted away now, calling for Isa.” 

When Jack stood, Katsuya rose up to kiss his cheek. “Hi. I missed you.” 

“I missed you too, Joey,” he said. “Ready to go?” 

They took the bike, stopping at one of the fancier mid-range restaurants. Jack had money, of course, but he also couldn’t get ramen in the first class places. He did splash out for one of the private rooms, though. 

Once they were through the main meal, they watched each other over their cups of tea. 

“So…” Katsuya said softly. “How long is your tournament this time?” 

“Two days. Qualifiers, then semi-finals and finals in the evening.” 

“Are you actually playing this time, or only the championship match?” He asked. 

“They automatically qualified me for the semi-finals,” Jack answered, setting his cup down. “Joey… we need to talk,” 

He sighed, grip tightening on his cup. “You’re breaking up with me.” 

“You must’ve seen this coming,” Jack said. “We haven’t been as close since you moved to Domino.” 

“You just announced you were moving your home track to Domino. I thought…” 

Jack looked uncomfortable. “It wasn’t to move closer to you.” 

Katsuya put his cup down. He folded and smoothed his napkin on the table. “Who is it?” 

“Joey?” 

He just gave the other blond a fierce glare. “Don’t fuck me over, Jack Atlas. You said you’d always be honest with me.” 

“...Yuusei. His name is Yuusei. I haven’t done anything, I promise you that. We’re…” He sighed. “We grew up in the same foster home. I met up with him again recently. There was just this… spark.” 

“Spark.” <em>He … he lights me up.</em> “Okay. I’ll break the news to Noa and Isa. You tell… well. You never introduced me to your friends, so you’re all clear.” He grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair. “We don’t have any stuff to return to each other, so that’s it.” 

“Joey, what are you doing?” 

“Leaving. I think you can cover the bill.” 

“Joey, we came on the bike,” Jack said, standing up and taking out his wallet. “Where are you going?” 

“I’m going to walk. I’ve had enough awkward post-breakup rides to last me a lifetime.” 

“Don’t compare me to your ex-husband,” Jack said irritably, putting down money to cover the bill with a generous tip. “I never cheated on you! I told you as soon as I could that things have changed for me.” 

“I’ll appreciate that soon, Jack,” Katsuya said, his temper losing its momentum. “But not right now.” 

The other blond sighed. “We’re not going to do the whole ‘let’s be friends’ thing, then?” 

“No,” he said wearily, going to the door. “Not now. It’s too raw for that.” 

“You’re friends with your ex-husband now,” Jack pointed out. 

“Give it five years and a fake death,” he said tiredly. “Good luck with your tournament.” 

Jack climbed onto his motorcycle, looking up at Katsuya. “You will call me, won’t you? When we can be friends again.” 

“We’ll see.” 

~*~ 

Katsuya walked back to the penthouse. It was 2am before he got back. He leaned 

tiredly against the front door, too tired to go any further. “What the hell kind of time do you call this?” 

He looked up. Kaiba was looming in the doorway, dressed in his pyjamas with the old white coat over the top. His old battle armour . His hair was a mess, his face drawn and tired. Still, he looked furious. 

Katsuya sighed. “I said I’d be back before breakfast. Unless you’ve started eating at one-thirty in the morning, I haven’t broken curfew.” 

“You think it’s responsible to go out until the early hours of the morning with your cradlesnatched boyfriend and come home a mess?” 

“He’s not that must younger than me,” he said, stepping on the back of his shoes to get out of them. 

“What if Noa was still awake?” Kaiba demanded coldly. 

“Then that would be your fault,” he said tiredly. “You were the one watching them.” 

“While you were out carousing with that arrogant, egotistical-” 

“White-coat wearing, rich bastard?” Katsuya finished, padding past him in his socks. “Yes, apparently I have a type. Now I’m aware you feel threatened because you’re no longer the tallest arrogant ego in my life any more, but for fuck’s sake would you put this off until I’ve had some sleep?” 

There was a long silence, Kaiba following him back to the room. “...he’s not taller than me.” 

“Two inches.” 

“What’s the matter with you?” 

Katusya sat on his raised, Western bed, and undid his cuffs. “You know, I’ve spent the last eight hours wandering through the city asking myself the exact same thing?” 

“Katsuya?” 

“First it was Mai. She said I was ’too young ’, but a month later she’s biking through South America with Valon . Then there’s you, who held me as a stopgap for four years until your favourite zombie crawled out of his grave again. And then I have to wait three years until I’m comfortable enough to date again. I finally find a guy who can deal with my emotional baggage, and likes Noa. But then, surprize surprize, he reunites with his Yuusei and once again, I’m not good enough. So here I am kicked to the curb once again with a brand new set of baggage.” He glared up at Kaiba, who was silently letting him rant. “So what is it, huh? You’ve got the inside scoop! What the fuck is ‘the matter ’ with me? Why am I never good enough to stick around for?” 

There was a short silence. Seto took a deep breath and sighed it out forcefully. 

Crossing the room, he sat beside him on the bed. “He broke up with you.” 

“Brilliant deduction,” Katsuya said bitterly. He shifted back and lay on the bed, tugging the sheet over himself. 

Seto tugged the comforter around him, tucking him in like a child. Like their children. 

“I made a mistake with you, Katsuya.” 

He snorted bitterly. “Yeah. I figured you thought as much somewhere around the year of adultery and the resulting divorce.” 

“That’s not what I meant,” Seto said tiredly. “Not our relationship, or our marriage. That’s not my mistake.” He turned the bedside lamp. “We’ll talk tomorrow.” 

“Don’t tell Atemu I called him a zombie.” 

“Go to sleep, Katsuya. I’ll be here in the morning.” 

~*~ 

“Do you want me to ruin his career?” 

Katsuya looked at him. He’d woken up earlier, found Kaiba asleep on the edge of his bed, asleep under the throw blanket stolen from the spare couch. They had cooked breakfast, set up their kids with their Sunday homework in the downstairs playroom. Now they were sitting in front of the crackling fire, playing Speed. 

“You don’t need to do that,” he said. “I appreciate the offer, thought I don’t know why you’re making - but you don’t need to do anything with Jack. It was pretty amicable, considering.” 

“He’s leaving you for someone else.” 

“Yeah, well. At least he told me before the fact,” Katsuya grumbled. “Unlike someone.” 

“Low blow, Katsuya.” He gave Seto a look. “But yes, I suppose I deserve it.” He flipped the middle card and started laying down a volley of cards from his hand. “But you aren’t angry with him?” 

“Nah,” Katsuya said easily, thwarting his streak by clearing his whole hand and drawing five more. “Things have been… well, we’ve been drifting apart since I moved back here. We only saw each other when he was here for a tournament or something.” 

“Really? Because last night you seemed to think there was a...different reason for the breakup.” 

“One named Yuusei,” Katsuya said, flipping the middle cards. “I don’t blame him. He said they had a spark. You can’t blame him for not having a spark with me.” “...was that criticism towards me? I’m not certain.” 

He sighed. “Not intentionally,” he said quietly. “Look… I guess…” He sighed again. “I get it now. I’ve had someone for my past, someone I love, come back when I thought I could never see them again. It’s a rush, like there’s no floor any more. I can see that someone could think that’s better than what they have.” 

There was a long pause. Katsuya looked up from the piles of cards, confused at the look Kaiba was giving him. He used to know all of Kaiba’s expressions, what the exact cant of the eyebrows and the set of the mouth meant for his emotional state - even a hint at his thoughts. The look Kaiba was giving him - surprise, pleased surprise, maybe even a little bit of awe. But he didn’t know why. 

“What?” He asked, confused. 

“You said you love me.” 

“We were married.” 

“Love. Present tense. As in, not past tense.” 

Katsuya dropped his eyes back down to the cards, and laid down his final card. “I win.” 

“Katsuya, don’t,” he said quietly. “You can’t just duck out of this conversation yet again. If you say something like that, you can’t say nothing more about it!” 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Katsuya said, gathering up the cards to reshuffle them. “It doesn’t matter anyway. Things haven’t changed - we’re still divorced, there’s the whole Atemu thing, and I just got dumped. Last night. For another man. Again.” He started dealing out another game of Speed. “So now you know and we don’t have to talk about it. Ever.” 

Kaiba sighed. “Katsuya, don’t start this again. Look at me, please.” 

He raised his eyes, met Kaiba’s, who gave him a reassuring smile. “We won’t talk 

about it, okay? Now. Let’s play another round and even our success ratio back out.” 

~*~ 

Katsuya opened the door to Kaiba’s office and walked inside, glaring at him. 

Kaiba was sitting behind his desk - his scarily efficient secretary beside him, flipping through paperwork for him to sign. He glanced up from his signing, looking at him over the frame of is frame of his reading glasses. “Katsuya. I wasn’t expecting you.” 

“I was having lunch with Yuugi,” he started aggressively. 

Kaiba seemed to catch his mood. He capped his pen and set down his hanko. “I’ll get to these later. File and duplicate what you can in the meantime.” 

“Yes, Kaiba-shachou.” He folded away the paperwork and left, bowing her head politely to Katsuya, “Kaiba-san.” 

Kaiba took off his glasses, massaging his eyes for a moment as he closed them up in the case on his desk. 

“You need a new prescription,” Katsuya said, concerned. 

“I don’t. It’s simply the degeneration of the pupillary muscle elasticity due to age.” He looked back at him. “You had lunch with Yuugi, as you were saying?” 

“Right!” Katsuya said, his temper flaring again. “He asked me to be his best man.” 

“Seems like an appropriate choice. You’ve been his best friend since high school.” 

“His best man ,” he repeated angrily. “At his wedding ! ” 

“Yes, that’s the usual office for a best man.” 

“His wedding to Atem ! ” Katsuya said, furious at his calm. Kaiba didn’t say anything, just raised his eyebrows at him. “And when I said I hadn’t seen this coming, he said they’d been dating for seven years.” 

“...yes?” 

“Seven , Seto! We only split but six years ago!” 

Kaiba sighed and stood up. “Right… you didn’t know.” He went over to the dry bar and poured two soda waters with ice. Katsuya recognised the old awkward move - usually reserved for business meetings. If he’d really wanted a drink, he would’ve asked for tea. “Neither did I… at the time, I mean. They were keeping it secret. I’ve known for years - as have most of your friends. I suppose they assumed you would have been told.” He handed him one of the glass tumblers. 

Katsuya set it down angrily and glared up at Kaiba. “You left me for him! You fucking owed it to me to take that relationship seriously!” 

“I did take it seriously,” Kaiba replied tiredly. “I had every intention of conducting a serious, long-term relationship with him. It came out shortly afterward that he didn’t have any idea of a relationship that… well, honestly - one that was anything more than sex and being treated to expensive dinners. As soon as Yuugi agreed to go public, he quickly got rid of me.” 

Katsuya picked up his drink to sip, trying to digest that. “How soon?” He demanded. 

“Katsuya…” 

“How. Long.” 

Kaiba sighed. “March.” 

“Noa wasn’t even born then,” Katsuya said, collapsing into a seat on the conversation lounge Kaiba used for an informal business setting. 

“I didn’t know about him,” he said, sitting across from him. He sighed tiredly. “When it happened, you were the only person I wanted to talk about it. But you had just moved to New York.” 

Katsuya looked at him. “Why didn’t you want to talk to Mokuba about it?” 

“...he wasn’t exactly talking to me after the divorce,” he mumbled, avoiding his eyes. “He was angry at me - I did talk to him about it and he was furious about the real reason we were divorcing. But he managed to be sympathetic as the rest of my personal life was falling apart.” 

Katsuya sighed. “March. Noa wasn’t born until July. You could’ve been there for him.” 

“Even if I had known… would you have even let me back into your life?” 

He lifted the glass and gulped down the rest of the soda water. “Maybe. I don’t know. Maybe once Noa was born. So you could at least be a part of his life.” 

Kaiba sighed and finished off his own glass. “I’m sorry nobody told you about Atemu and Yuugi, I assumed after five years someone ought to have told you.” 

“I thought you were still together this whole time - like you were just being… discrete. So you wouldn’t hurt my feelings.” 

“Is that why you didn’t tell me about Jack?” 

Katsuya cringed and set down his glass. “I better go. I have to go meet with Ms Ishtar and plan their engagement party.” 

“She the wedding planner?” 

“The maid of honour.” He stood. “Alright. See you at home?” 

~*~ 

“Where’s Kaiba going to be sitting?” 

“Atemu said he RSVP’ed no,” Yuugi said, moving post-it notes around the seating charts. “It was probably too short notice. We are getting married on White Day. It’s only two months away.” 

“...he never got an invitation,” Katsuya said, confused. “Have you sent them already? He told me this morning he was still waiting for his.” 

Yuugi frowned. “But we’ve already finished the final numbers. Atemu said Kaiba was 

‘a definite no ’.” 

“Okay, but… I’m not accusing him of anything, but did you post the actual invitations yourself?” Katsuya asked, confused. 

“Well… no. I was stressing out and he said he’d take care of it for me.” 

“He decided not to send Kaiba’s invite.” He sighed. “Makes sense, I guess.” 

“Katsuya, would you help me with this? I asked you to help me because you had experience with this whole wedding thing!” 

“Actually, Kaiba did all the planning - with the assistance of a very expensive wedding planner, of course. He’s always been the organizing type. I got to choose the cake, but that’s about it.” 

“Wait, go back. What do you mean it ‘makes sense’?” Yuugi asked. “Why would it make sense for him not to invite Kaiba to our wedding?” 

“Well, after that affair they were having six years ago - the one we divorced over. Even if things weren’t awkward, it wouldn’t exactly be a good sign.” 

It was too quiet. Katsuya lifted his head. Yuugi was staring at him, an almost horrified expression on his face. “What?” 

“I mean, that’s why Kaiba broke up with me - so he could be with Atemu. He never told him the two of you were together, obviously.” The silence continued. “...oh. You… he never told you, did he?” 

“I’m going to need you to leave, Katsuya. I’ll call you later, okay?” 

Katsuya headed back home, going straight to the kitchen to brew himself a large pot of coffee. When he heard footsteps, he glanced around to see Kaiba coming in. He was dressed in a rumpled shirt, folded up to his elbows, hair displaced like he’d been running his fingers through it repeatedly. “Is that coffee?” 

“Geez, Kaiba. How long have you been awake for?” 

“Thirty-six hours,” he said, stealing the mug right out of his hands and drinking it straight. He didn’t even add sugar, which spoke volumes. “Your E-Calendar blocked you out on Wedding Planning with Yuugi until four.” 

“...yeeeeaaaaaaaaah,” he said, pouring another coffee for himself. “I dropped the big ‘Seto and Atemu were having an affair’ bomb and he asked me to leave.” 

“...he didn’t know?” 

“He didn’t know.” He sipped his coffee. “Atemu told him you RSVP’ed no.” 

“I didn’t. I mean, I thought I might - if I got the invitation. I doubt I’m really wanted there. But I never received it.” 

“Well, guess who was in charge of mailing them.” 

Kaiba sighed. “Well. There might not be a wedding now.” 

“Nah, they’ll go through with it,” Katsuya said. “They’ve shared a body and soul, a little adultery is nothing like trading his soul to the orichalcos because he refused to lose a duel.” He paused. “Uh, is it okay for me to talk about them?” 

“I’m not jealous if that’s what you mean,” Kaiba replied, grabbing one of Mokuba’s poptarts and sticking two in the toaster. “If Yuugi wants that manipulative psychopath, he’s welcome to him.” 

“Yeah, you’re not bitter at all,” he deadpanned, taking a seat at the breakfast bar. 

“I never said I wasn’t bitter,” Kaiba replied, hovering a hand over the toaster so the poptarts didn’t make a swan dive for the kitchen floor. “I said I wasn’t jealous. “I’d hate to hear what you say about me behind my back.” 

He smirked, folding the poptarts into a napkin. “Only nice things.” 

“Try and get some sleep, Seto. Virtual Reality will wait.” 

“Solid vision this time,” he poured another mug, “thanks for coffee.” 

“Get some sleep!” 

~*~ 

“Daaaaaaaad,” Noa said, hanging off Kaiba’s arm. “How fast can the blue eyes coaster go?” 

“Ninety-five miles per hour, Noa,” he replied, smiling. “How tall is it?” 

“The first rise is 318 feet,” he continued, happy to tell him. “The second hill is 

250, the third is 210.” 

“The Cyclone only gets up to sixty, and it’s nowhere near as tall!” 

“Well, it was made in the thirties-” 

“Nineteen-twenty-seven!” Noa corrected. 

Kaiba chuckled. “I stand corrected. Either way, roller coasters have strived to improve on their predecessors. If nobody had made The Cyclone, I should think nobody would have made The White Dragon.” 

“Can we go on it again?” 

“Noa, please ,” Katsuya said, interrupting them. He took his sunglasses off to clean them. “Can we eat our picnic please? You’ve been on the coaster four times already.” 

His boy looked up, but before Katsuya could apologise, he noticed Kaiba lean close and whisper: “it’s his birthday, we’d better do as he wants.” 

Noa blinked up at him, and then turned to Katsuya. “Otou-san, it’s your birthday?” 

Katsuya gave Kaiba a frown, and looked back at his boy. “Yes, Noa. I suppose it is.” 

“Wow! I never knew your birthday was the 25th of January!” Excited by the news, he continued: “we all have twenty-fifth birthdays! Isa is in March, and I’m in July, and Dad’s is in October and your is in January! If we add my month number to Isa’s number you get Dad’s number and if you add the two digits of his month you get yours!” 

“Yeah. We’re a very numerologically auspicious family,” Katsuya said. He stopped on the lawn overlooking the castle attraction and put down the picnic basket. 

“Here looks good.” 

“But we can’t see the rollercoaster from here,” Noa whined, pouting. “Good.” 

“Katsuya,” Kaiba said in a low, gentle voice. 

He sighed. Right. Don’t take his temper out on his boy. He reached out and ruffled his boy’s hair. “Okay. I’m sorry. Let’s move somewhere else.” 

“I don’t want to move somewhere else!” Isa complained, stomping one foot. “I want to sit down already!” 

Noa sighed unhappily. “It’s okay, Otou-san. I can count all the castle windows anyway…” 

Katsuya gave him a one-armed hug and moved to lay out their warmed picnic blanket. It was still the middle of winter after all - though there wasn’t any snow on the ground, the sky was a dark, heavy grey with the slightest hint of blue. The air didn’t smell of snowfall yet, but he was sure it was only a matter of time. 

He opened the picnic basket and started unpacking the bento boxes. Isa’s was floral and filled with vegan, organically-sourced, locally-grown food. Just rice, mostly. The rest of theirs were made mostly the same - though he and Kaiba had a few more ‘grown up’ foods that Noa wouldn’t touch. 

They ate, and Noa and Kaiba discussed the specs of the castle, while Isa and Katsuya talked about anything else. 

They were just moving on to dessert - a Christmas cake, though slightly out of season - when Isa spotted someone approaching them up the hill. “It’s Yuugi-kun!” 

Katsuya sat up straighter, confused. He’d gotten a text a few days ago, telling him the wedding was still going forward but planning was on hold for the moment. 

“Yuugi,” he greeted, when the man got close enough to hear them. “Sit down, have some cake.” 

“Thank you, Jou-kun,” Yuugi replied. He stepped out of his shoes and knelt next to Isa, taking a slice of cake. “Mokuba told me I would find you here.” 

“Here we are.” Katsuya expected him to pull a present from his pockets, but he didn’t. 

He turned to Kaiba and - after the usual polite pleasantries - said to him, “it seems that your invitation to my wedding was misplaced. I thought I would come and personally apologise, and deliver it in person.” He did reach for his pocket then, and took out a fancy envelope - which he presented to Kaiba with a bow. 

Katsuya and Kaiba exchanged silent looks. The latter took it with a reciprocal bow. “I’m honoured, Yuugi,” he replied. “But I wonder if-” 

“Kaiba,” Yuugi interrupted, “it’s very important to me that you be at our wedding.” 

What was Yuugi playing at? He didn’t know any reason why Atemu would agree to this. 

With nothing really to say in argument to that, Kaiba tucked the envelope into his pocket. “I’ll discuss it with my secretary. I can’t guarantee my attendance at all the events, but she should be able to wrangle me some free time for the ceremony and the reception.” 

Yuugi smiled at him. “Thank you.” After that, he stayed long enough to finish his cake, and then left - without 

even wishing Katsuya happy birthday. 

They packed up the picnic, though the blond hated leaving the warmth of the blanket. 

~*~ 

Katsuya clinked his glass, quieting down the chatter of the reception room. Their plates of pitifully small portions of overly fancy food were being collected up by the catering waitstaff, and it was time for his Best Man Speech. 

“Ladies and gentlemen and non-binary individuals, we are gathered here today…wait, I’m not the officiant.” He let the couple of laughs taper off before continuing, “no, really. Tonight, we celebrate Yuugi and Atemu Mutou and the rest of their lives together. Atemu and Yuugi have changed each other for the better. Drawn together by their mutual love of games, Atemu turned my best friend Yuugi from a shy, lonely boy wishing for some friends to a confident, strong man wishing for less friends.” Another pause for the laughter. “Our friend Atemu, who came to us lost, amnesiac, and intent on single-handedly crushing every evil he came across, bonded to Yuugi and the two were closer than any two people can be. At Yuugi’s side, Atemu learned patience, compassion, and how to program his VCR.” Another laugh. “Together they faced many hardships- like the time Atemu gambled away Yuugi’s soul in a card game.” Thank hell that one got some laughs. “When Atemu left us, we all thought we’d never see him again- but then he returned, and after seven long years, Yuugi is finally making an honest man out of him.” He glanced at the newlyweds, and smiled. “Atemu. Yuugi. You guys will have a difficult future ahead of you, with all the struggle of ‘how are you going to get things down from the top shelf ’, and ‘how many Mutous does it take to change a lightbulb?’.” He waited for the laughs to stop. “Well, I’ve rambled on for long enough. Raise your glasses with me and we’ll toast to Yuugi and Atemu- best friends, game kings, soulmates.” He held up his glass to them. “To the happy couple.” 

The guests toasted and cheered, and Katsuya gladly sat back down. Beside him, Seto squeezed his knee under the table. “Nice speech.” 

He grinned back cheekily. “Thanks for writing it for me.” 

“With you,” Seto corrected. “You knew what you wanted to say, I just helped you get the words out.” He patted him on the knee. “And the comic delivery was all you.” 

Before he could answer, the guests all made their way to the dancefloor. The string quartet started playing, and Yuugi and Atemu took the floor for their first dance. 

“I should go, apparently I have to dance with Isis.” 

“I’ll save her feet after the first dance.” 

As promised, after the first song segued into the next one, Seto tapped on his shoulder. “Mind if I cut in?” 

Before Katsuya could hand the Ishtar matriarch over, she stepped away and smiled. 

“Not at all. I need to ice my feet.” She limped away. 

Seto just chuckled and took over her place. He led, and Katsuya would feel the steel toe of Seto’s loafers under his at every other step. 

“You came prepared.” 

“These are my standard shoes for any outing that may include dancing.” 

Katsuya rolled his eyes and leaned against him. “Has this been hard on you?” 

“You seem intent on assigning me the role of a jealous, jilted ex-lover,” Seto said, looking in his eyes. “I assure you Katsuya- once again- that this does not affect me in any negative way. I am happy for my friend on their marriage.” 

“I suppose I just don’t get it. You loved him.” 

“I was persuaded to believe I loved him. The person I believed he was, actually never existed.” 

“So you left me for your imaginary friend. That makes me feel better,” he deadpanned. 

Seto chuckled. “Rather, a cultivated façade maintained for the purpose of keeping me amenable to an affair.” 

“You make him sound like such a manipulative bastard,” Katsuya said. His lips pursed in the way that told him Seto was holding back a smirk- his silence was pointed. Katsuya gave him an odd look, and fished out his his phone when it buzzed. “Noa and Isa are asleep, finally,” he said, then put the phone away again. “Apparently we promised to bring them wedding cake.” 

“Interesting how neither of us remember that,” Seto replied, smirking. 

“Absolute mystery,” he replied, grinning, “I wonder how much they got away with before we were talking again.” 

“Shudder to think.” 

The music shifted, and Kaiba drew him closer, changing them into a waltz. 

“…What are you thinking about, Katsuya?” 

“Pork katsudon.” 

“You were that disappointed in the catering?” 

“You remember the katsudon we had on our honeymoon?” 

“Hasetsu,” he said, “at that hot springs resort?” 

“Mhm. They have the best katsudon I’ve ever tasted. That’s the exact katsudon I’m thinking of.” 

Seto hummed. “I wonder if that old place is still there.” 

“I wonder if they still make that katsudon.” 

“Let’s go away- Spring vacation starts on Isa’s birthday. We’ll go away for the Spring break, heat to Hasetsu, and you can eat your weight in rice and egg and pork cutlets.” 

“Family vacation,” he said thoughtfully. “Let’s talk to the kids about it tomorrow. Over the wedding cake we have to convince Yuugi to give us.” 

Otogi nudged him and he came past them. “They’re throwing the bouquet.” 

“Is that important?” Katsuya asked as Seto stepped away from him. 

“It’s a Western tradition,” Seto replied. “Usually the bride throws the bouquet to the female guests. I thought it was too gendered for our ceremony.” 

“Well. We might as well join in, give them a large crowd to pelt a bunch of flowers at.” 

Seto chuckled, and led him over to stand in the crows. A moment later, the bunch of lotus flowers and cherry blossoms hit Katsuya in the chest. Startled, he held them and looked up at Seto. “Um…I win?” 

Seto looked down at him, his eyes wide and a slight flush dusting his cheeks. He grabbed the bouquet and tossed it at one of the glaring women who had been grabbing for it. “The caterers are about to pack away the bottom two tiers of the cake, and I’m going to bribe them to give us the decimated top tier.” 

Katsuya followed after him. “Isa knows cake isn’t vegan, right?” 

“Oh, didn’t you see her latest blog post? She’s trying the authentic pre-Industrial Revolution diet. Apparently the revolution is when farms became solely for-profit and the ethical conditions began to become reprehensible - though I don’t know how thoroughly researched it was. Either way, she made a point of declaring that cake is pre-Ind Rev, and on the approved list.” 

“Isa has a blog?” 

Seto laughed. “Of course. How else do you keep up with the ever-changing landscape of your thirteen-year-old daughter’s life?” 

“I’ve been trying this New Agey parenting technique called ‘<em>talking to your child</em>’,” Katsuya deadpanned. 

Seto chuckled. “Sounds disastrous. No discipline, kids making their own rules, never heard the word ‘no’.” 

“You talk to Noa,” he pointed out. 

“We talk about engineering, and economics, and tonal shifts in small-region Mandarin, and current theories on how and why the colour blue exists- but not life stuff.” 

“He’s five,” Katsuya said. “What did you talk about when you were five?” 

“Sonatas. Concertos. When was the stork going to drop off the new baby?” 

“The stork?” 

“I was five, Kats. I wasn’t a prodigy in everything until Gozaburo.” 

“Well. Noa must get it from somewhere else other than you.” 

“He has my eyes.” 

“He has my heart.” 

Seto gave him a long look. “That he does, Katsuya. That he does.” 


End file.
